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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26876887">The Line between a Man and Beast is Thinner than You Think</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/2001HondaCivicRampage/pseuds/2001HondaCivicRampage'>2001HondaCivicRampage</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bloodborne (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abhorrent Beast AU essentially, Alternative Universe/Everyone Lives, Atypical Family Dynamics, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, How to deal with the fact your husband is a beast now, Other, Reverse Werewolf vibes, Suspicious Beggar is Suspicious - go figure, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:03:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,745</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26876887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/2001HondaCivicRampage/pseuds/2001HondaCivicRampage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Self contained but chronological stories set in an a Yharnam where Father Gascoigne was never killed and fully succumbs to the scourge and now tries to make sense of disjointed memories, and instincts that don't match his remaining humanity as he desperately tried to re-attain it. </p><p> <br/>Alternative title: Why is FromSoftware allergic to letting characters live?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Father Gascoigne/Viola</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Just Your Average Married Couple</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was an AU idea I’ve been toying with for a while.<br/>Ever since fighting the Abhorrent Beast/Beggar I kinda thought it looked like Gascoigne’s ‘beast’ form. And I always thought that when the hunter kills Gascoigne it’s not probable that it was a fully succumbed beast form, as he still looks quite human, which is not suuuuuper common in fully succumbed scourge beasts or even bosses like Vicar Amelia.</p><p>Thus this AU is based around the idea that had Gascoigne lived without the player's intervention, he probably would have fully succumbed and then I decided to keep Viola and others alive because shit I need that alright - thus leading to my idea that it’s likely that being able to regain sanity isn’t too unrealistic for Abhorrent Beasts. </p><p>So here’s some dumb shit that I need so I don’t feel to miserable at how Bloodborne characters have severe allergies to happiness. </p><p> </p><p>This chapter deals with how exactly one is supposed to come to terms that someone they loved is gone forever, but also not quite, but also yes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Viola couldn’t sleep.</p><p>It wasn't the sounds of howling, screeching, the loud clang of metal or the sharp, shocking sound of a firearm going off. Nor was it the ever-present smell of smoke, burned fur and flesh mixed in with the acidic and pungent scent of incense.</p><p>It was what was silent. What padded quietly, and defensively outside the house, growling softly at the slightest noise, fur on end and ready to attack. </p><p> </p><p>Viola shifted in her bed, turning over and snaked her hand out, feeling the cold and unused sheets of the other side. She sighed and turned onto her back, staring at the dark ceiling. The room was illuminated only by the slight crack between the curtains that looked upon the plaza below, the soft light from the lanterns and fires seeping gently in. She shifted her gaze to the window. She knew Gascoigne would be out there, pacing back and forth, ready to attack anything at the slightest provocation, even the engorged, greasy carrion crows that did very little harm, or even the salivating, emaciated hunting dogs. It didn’t matter, if it threatened them, they would be taken care of. </p><p> </p><p>Usually he followed Henryk, but the aged hunter needed a few more nights off as he got older. Blood ministration couldn’t fix it all. On the night of the hunt, even after all that had happened, Gascoigne still endeavoured to protect the aging hunter, and they were an even more formidable force to be reckoned with. </p><p>Henryk had joked that he was even better as a hunting partner now than before. Quieter, and tougher to take down. Henryk saw a silver lining, and really, he was just happy he didn’t have to put his own hunting partner down. He was still playfully annoying, though now when Gascoigne pushed him in annoyance he very well could break a rib or two, yet Henryk still laughed it off and roughly tousled the beast's mane, and when Gascoigne would draw his lips back in an annoyed snarl, Henryk would just cross his arms and firmly say ‘no’ before laughing at the beast’s irritation with him. There was wistfulness there though, he missed him as he was before as well, but he was determined to take it in stride. Probably from the fear and knowledge the same would happen to him sooner or later.  </p><p> </p><p>Viola twisted in bed again. The anxiousness didn’t leave her, she felt more than stressed, it was combined with the crushing feelings of forlornness. She hadn’t seen him much since that night, a glance here, an unsuccessful approach there. He spent nearly every hunt with Henryk, and then would disappear to the depth of Yharnam until the next one. Viola assumed he probably disappeared to Old Yharnam or somewhere isolated, she recalled that Henryk told her they had gone to Djura, the violent, unwashed, geriatric Powder Keg had apparently proceeded to laugh quite abrasively at the situation, although he was now more open to discussion and assisting Henryk and other non-aligned hunters that committed themselves to the hunt. So, there were positives to this outcome she supposed. </p><p> </p><p>A screech outside pierced the air, then the sound of claws clicking across the stone, and she heard a sharp roar, a whimper and then silence. </p><p> </p><p>Viola looked back to the window. Sighing slightly, she threw back the sheets, feeling the cold immediately seep into her bones. She reached for her robe and pulled it around her before standing and walking over to the window, drawing the dark heavy material back ever so slightly. She raised her hand and gently rubbed away some of the gathered condensation before looking down to the plaza. She saw him, obscured by the fountain, but the grey shape was unmissable. He was standing above something, she assumed it was whatever had made the initial screech. </p><p> </p><p>She saw him, observed him, and all she could think was that she still loved him, more than anything. But she knew he could no longer perceive her in the same sense, it was clear how much he wanted to protect her and Addie, how much he cared for them. But it wasn’t a human love any longer, and Viola mourned that. Was he even able to love her? He would never randomly show up at her studio and watch her paint for hours on end, reading to her or telling her what occurred on the hunt. Never would he meticulously repair and enhance his weapons in the basement workshop, teaching Addie tricks of the trade and instructing her not to tell her mother, knowing full well she was behind the door all along. She missed laughing at his drawn and sullen expression as townspeople mistook him for Addie’s grandfather. She missed having him next to her on those few nights where he wasn’t called to the hunt, she would lie next to him, pulling back his shirt, and trailing her fingers gently along along the bridge of his crooked nose before moving to the scars that marred the majority of his body before he would draw her close and hold her caringly, listening to every word, every movement, and always valuing her in a way no one else ever had. </p><p> </p><p>Viola raised a hand to the glass pane and slowly drew her hand down, creating rivers of clarity between the condensation. She breathed out. Everything was different now. She missed him dearly, but he also wasn’t gone. He was right there, in a way.</p><p> </p><p>Viola inhaled sharply, discarding her robe and walking towards her wardrobe, taking out a red, heavy woollen dress and warm undergarments as well as boots and a cloak. She left her blonde hair out, but turned to the bed, beside her table was her brooch, her engagement gift. She picked it up gently, it had a slight crack in it from the misadventures it had been through, but it mattered not, it was still a symbol of her strange love in the city flooded by blood. She gently pinned it to the front of her dress before beginning to walk down the stairs. On the floor below she stopped briefly and looked to the door on her left, opening it ever slightly, she saw the tousles of blonde hair splayed out across a pillow. She smiled gently, and silently closed the door, there was no reason to wake Addie. The girl had been through enough in her brief life, but Viola did admire how well she had taken her father’s development and change in all their lives. But they had been through a lot together she had heard later, though regrettably it had only cemented Addie’s desire to be a hunter, to ‘protect the good beasts and people.’ A childish notion, but one Viola, nor Henryk could bring to dispel yet. </p><p> </p><p>Viola gently stepped down the last few stairs and walked into the kitchen, grabbing and lighting a lantern. She pulled her cloak further around herself, and walked into the reception room, she looked to the fireplace, above it on the mantle she saw the music box and photograph of their wedding day. She sighed and reached for the music box, just as a precaution. She had never used it since he succumbed completely, but she would never get the images of him entirely blood drunk and hacking the bloody corpses of townspeople and huntsmen apart without true lucidity out of her head. It didn't change how she felt about him, but it simply meant she needed to be a little more careful. Viola clutched the box in one hand, and slowly, opened the front door. </p><p> </p><p>The night was even colder out, and she shuddered against the breeze. Taking a deep breath and calming her nerves, she took the first step. Waking gently down the stairs to the plaza and approached the back of the fountain very cautiously. From his distance she could see he had his back turned to her, hunched over something, his movements somewhat jolted. She cocked her head to the side; she could see something in front of him. </p><p>She took a few more steps forward until she could hear his soft panting. He still hadn’t noticed her. He must have been tired, or too engaged in something else. </p><p>Viola took a few more steps forward, and narrowed her gaze, she saw dark, reflective patches on the ground… blood. </p><p> </p><p>“Gascoigne?” Viola whispered gently. </p><p> </p><p>The beast yelped and sprung back. She too was startled and took a few steps back, clutching her chest. She breathed rapidly for a moment before swallowing and looking back at him. He was slinking away into the shadows of the large archway, but the doors were closed so he wasn’t trying to escape, but seemingly trying to avoid her seeing him. </p><p>Viola tilted her head and took another step forward before lowering her gaze. </p><p>Her stomach lurched. </p><p>She should be used to seeing deceased, dismembered and lacerated bodies from a lifetime in Yharnam, but seeing the body of a mostly transformed huntsman with it’s entrails splayed out was still confronting. She narrowed her gaze at the corpse. It seemed to have a lot less blood surrounding it than it should have. </p><p>She raised her gaze back to Gascoigne, who was still crouched in the darkness of the archway, face away from her as to avoid eye contact. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong my dear?” she asked softly, stepping over the body of the huntsman and walking slowly towards him. As she came closer, he slunk further into the wall, pressing himself against it. As she approached, she saw him close his hands, hiding his claws from her, he often did that and she thought it was probably a desire to show a lack of threat. But it was also odd, he was never usually this shy. But he never got close, he still seemed subconsciously ashamed of his situation. And yet he let Addie practically climb all over him, and Henryk mock and annoy him, yet when it came to her, he avoided looking at her, would flinch when she tried to touch him and then when she would leave she could hear him make seemingly distressed noises. </p><p> </p><p>Viola took another deep breath and stepped closer, slowly. He wasn't attempting to move back or press himself against the dark wall anymore. She took this as a positive and stepped ever closer until she was an arm’s length away. She could hear his breathing, it appeared to be shorter and more shallow than it should have been. She saw that his mouth was shut tight, not revealing the incisors that could do untold amounts of damage. She had felt somewhat horrified when Addie had gleefully told her that he had crushed the skull of a maneater boar in one bite to save her. So, he was the perfect killing machine, one that was fighting with himself constantly, but one that had protected them no matter what, so Viola really shouldn't be afraid as much as she was. Fear? No, it wasn't fear, but she couldn’t place what she felt. </p><p> </p><p>She slowly knelt down and placed the lantern between them. As she lowered it and looked up, she narrowed her gaze. She could see that there was something dark on his muzzle, she tilted her head and slowly decided to place a lot of trust in Gascoigne and herself. She reached out a hand slowly towards his face. She could see him flinch, but he didn't go to move away. She didn't need to be able to see his eyes to know he was staring intently at her, but he still made no movement at all. Sighing Viola retracted her hand, looking down for a moment, she moved the lantern to the side, </p><p>“Why are you so distant from me? Addie and Henryk are no problem, but I can’t understand why you would avoid me.” She whispered sadly. She could feel tears prick her eyes, so she turned her eyes up and blinked them back the best she could. </p><p> </p><p>Looking back she noticed he had turned his head to her. She could feel his gaze bore through her, but it was the muzzle she looked at, she could see blood, drying slowly. Probably from the huntsman that had got too close, but… that corpse was awfully clean. She jolted as she briefly saw his tongue flicked out and trail along his muzzle.  Realisation dawned. </p><p>Viola released a shaky breath, yes, many beasts drank blood rather than ever actually eating a corpse, but she had never even considered that Gascoigne would have to survive on blood now as well. She hadn’t wanted to think about that. Most beasts mutilated the corpses and gnawed on the flesh to drain it of as much blood as possible without a care in the world, leaving a trail of annihilated and desecrated corpses in their path. Had he done the same? Did he attack townspeople when not here? Though it appeared as if Gascoigne was somewhat ashamed as he crouched a bit lower. Viola breathed out sharply and shuffled forward, coming to a standing position. She would have to just get over her inhibition. </p><p> </p><p>Though as she approached Gascoigne turned his head away again,</p><p>“No.” Viola whispered gently but firmly, reaching forward and gently placing her hand along his muzzle, feeling the coarse grey fur, she gently dragged her hand back as the fur lengthened into the mane at where the hairline had once been. Gascoigne froze entirely, she could feel him stiffen under her touch. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t mind at all my dear.” she murmured gently, pressing her head into the wiry fur. “I’m sorry for startling you, I just don’t want you to block me out any longer.” she moved her left hand gently down the length of his muzzle, along the bones of the jaw and chin, ignoring the coagulating blood that was now sticking to her hand. </p><p> </p><p>Gascoigne released a raspy breath and whimpered slightly. Viola felt her heart clench and felt the tears begin to make a resurgence. She took a stabilising breath and pulled back, but only to sit down on the cold stones. Gascoigne shifted slightly but made no indication he was moving. </p><p>Viola raised her arm up again. He needed to show he could respond to her as well. Gascoigne began to lower his haunches and ever so slowly, come down to a crouched position, still not entirely comfortable, but he was receptive at least. </p><p>He still kept his fingers curled in order not to threaten with his claws, and he was breathing silently, but rapidly. Viola reached forward with both her hands and placed them gently on the sides of his muzzle and gently coaxed him lower. Gascoigne seemed to comprehend the situation and lowered himself slowly, laying down slightly to his side as he tucked his hands under his chest. </p><p>Viola noticed and couldn’t help but try to stifle a laugh. It reminded her of housecats that tucked their paws in when they were lying down, albeit in this case it was an incredibly dangerous and gigantic cat, Gascoigne looked confused and lowered his head and pinned back his ears slightly. </p><p> </p><p>“No, no my dear, I’m not upset.” she said before laughing slightly at the rather odd and tragic situation. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” </p><p> </p><p>She shuffled ever so slightly closer and gently lay her head down on his. The rough fur scratched her face, and the hard, tough bone that made up the skull was less than comfortable, and she could feel her heartbeat rise and beat faster. She pressed her hands in more firmly, trailing her hands along the sides of his muzzle meditatively. Gascoigne, who had been silent until now, released a short whine from the back of his throat. It sounded sad in its tone, she thought. She released a shuddering breath as she felt the tears make a resurgence, and this time, she saw no reason to try and stop them. She held him tighter, as her tears leaked on his muzzle, dampening the fur and running through the dried blood. She heard him growl softly again. </p><p> </p><p>“Gods I miss you.” She sobbed. “Where do we go from here?” She choked out, knowing he couldn't respond, or maybe had no idea what she was saying. She could hear him making slight whining sounds, barely audible, but she could tell he was distressed as well. </p><p>“I want you back, to be as we once were… Gods Gascoigne, how did we get here?” she choked through sobs. </p><p>Gascoigne didn’t respond, not in the way Viola wanted. But he leaned forward more, settling his head ever so slightly on her lap. Viola drew back, this was the first time he had reached out to her without coaxing. His head was heavy and the skull was far too big to fit comfortably, but she could feel the heat it radiated, chasing the cold away and it just brought more tears to her eyes. She heard him whine slightly, ears pinned back. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re no more content with this than I am, aren’t you?” she whispered through her tears. </p><p> </p><p>Gascoigne just growled non-threateningly again and nuzzled his head further into her lap. </p><p>Viola narrowed her gaze; this was the closest she had ever been to him like this. In the dim light of the lantern she could make out details she had never seen. She could see there was a ridge in his nose, similar to the one that he had whilst human due to the constant breakages whilst on the hunt. Her eyes trailed up to the mane that framed his face, all the fur was mostly a block colour of grey as his hair had been, but she could make out strands of white and darker greys, and even see how the beard and mop of wild grey hair had altered as he had transformed. She could see along the length of the torso there were deep lines where no fur grew, scars from his years as a hunter, warped and further disfigured, but still there. </p><p>Viola breathed a sigh out and trailed her hands up from the sides of the large jaw, to the bandages that still covered his eyes. He seemed to still have a preference for them despite no longer needed to hide the collapsed pupils of blood drunkenness. She gently touched the bandages, running her hands along them. </p><p> </p><p>“May I?” she whispered in hope. </p><p> </p><p>Gascoigne grunted slightly. Viola had no idea whether it was related to her question or not. But she gently tugged at the bandages, Gascoigne didn’t respond, so she began to loosen them slowly, before unwinding them. She looked away as she did so, unable to calm her nerves properly. Once she felt the bandages give entirely, she took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. </p><p>She felt weak and released a sharp sob. </p><p>He was staring at her intensely, unblinking with large grey-blue eyes that seemed like they had changed very slightly since his transformation. </p><p> </p><p>Most beasts never kept their original eye colour, it was a rarity, but not unfeasible. Viola began to sob again, Gascoigne closed his eyes and tilted his head away, but did not try to move away. He knew she was upset; he knew he upset her and he loathed that, but he also didn't want to leave her. She was here, holding him, not flinching as she had done before, it stirred emotions of both joy and misery. </p><p> </p><p>“No...no my dear, please.” she whispered through tears, “look at me.” </p><p>She trailed her hands up to his forehead and brushed some of the more wild stands of fur back from his eyes. Gascoigne turned his gaze back to meet her starry green eyes, wet and bleary with tears, but never looking away. </p><p> </p><p>Gascoigne could feel she was still distraught, but when she looked at him he also saw relief. </p><p> </p><p>Viola blinked and lowered her head back onto the bridge of Gascoigne's nose just before the forehead, tears still flowing. She heard Gascoigne make a small growl, and she felt him move. She raised herself back up as Gascoigne moved his head off her lap, eventually raising himself onto his haunches into a half lying position, yet still somehow standing tall above her. He looked down at her and brought his face down just below hers. She could feel his warmth, could see his eyes staring gently into her. </p><p>But she never expected him to lower himself and press his muzzle against the side of her face, and gently flick his tongue out and lap at the tears that fell. Viola lost her breath for a moment. It was gentle, but the tongue was like sandpaper. But more importantly, he knew she was upset, he understood that he acknowledged it. </p><p> </p><p>Gascoigne saw her freeze and released a small whine, as if asking if she was okay. </p><p>Viola shuddered slightly and looked up to him. His eyes seemed concerned. </p><p>“I’m okay my dear.” she whispered gently, smiling ever so slightly. </p><p> </p><p>She reached up and trailed along his jaw again, but she was curious now. She moved her hand forward and gently tried to pry some of the lip back. Gascoigne flinched slightly, so she withdrew her hand. He lowered his head further, and brought his face to the side of her, and pressed his muzzle against her neck. She could feel his warmth again, and now it comforted her. She breathed out softly and turned to him so his face was right in front of hers again. She gently coaxed him to lower his face. She leant forward and gently kissed the ridge of his nose. </p><p>Gascoigne froze. </p><p>Viola withdrew and then gently motioned back to his muzzle. She touched his along his lip very slightly, and this time he responded, opening his jaw. </p><p>Viola swallowed hard. </p><p>Each fang had to at least be the length of her hand and with a jaw that wide it was unsurprising he could crush a maneater boar skull in one bite. She couldn't help but be thankful she wasn’t on the receiving end. He was still a great hunter, Henryk had asserted that, and she understood why it was still important for him to join the aged hunter. A beast he may be, but far from an irrational or aggressive one. </p><p>She withdrew her hand and Gascoigne sank back down; muzzle placed lightly on her lap again. </p><p> </p><p>Viola began to meditatively run her hands through his mane again, which seemed to relax him. </p><p>“I still love you, more than I can express. I want you to know that.” She smiled.</p><p> </p><p>Gascoigne looked up to her. She stopped and withdrew her hand. Gascoigne raised himself up and Viola was rather taken aback, she slunk back slightly. Had she done something wrong? Gascoigne sat pensively, hunched over her, blinking and breathing as if trying to work something out. Viola went to move back, she was unsure what he was thinking. </p><p> </p><p>Then, Gascoigne reached out with one hand. Viola was startled and jolted slightly. Gascoigne withdrew his hand to his chest and growled in a seeming apology. Viola mentally scolded herself. He clearly had no intention to harm her, but the sight of the monstrous, sinewy hand tipped with razor sharp black claws made her somewhat nervous. </p><p>“Sorry love.” she apologised, taking a deep breath and moving forward slightly, to tell him she wasn’t afraid. </p><p> </p><p>Gascoigne hunched over slightly more and reached out again, more slowly. He gently touched the top of the small woman's head and trailed his clawed hand down her side before moving to hold her head on the side. Viola began to cry again, and leaned into his hand, feeling comforted despite knowing if she moved slightly too quickly, she could lose an eye. </p><p>Gascoigne made a whine of distress and leant down to her, </p><p>She smiled, raising her hand to clutch at his, running along the patchy fur, </p><p>“It’s okay Gascoigne, I’m happy.” </p><p> </p><p>Gascoigne reached out with his other hand and gently wiped away the tears that fell. Viola smiled brighter as more tears fell, clutching at his hand. His expression was hard to make out, but he seemed to be content.</p><p> </p><p>Viola didn’t run, she didn’t flinch away. She stayed, smiling and leaning into his hand. She wasn’t afraid or repulsed. Gascoigne was content, she closed his eyes for a moment. Images flashed across his mind, but they caused him no pain. He knew where he was, he could make sense of the feelings he had. And he now knew she didn’t want to get rid of him, or even for him to leave momentarily. </p><p>He could hear it. Her name, he knew her name, but finding a way to say it to her in a way she understood was a challenge at the very least. He took a deep breath in and growled softly. Viola seemed not to notice. </p><p>That wasn’t correct, he knew she couldn’t understand him the same way that he couldn’t really understand her. They could understand each other's emotions, in a way words couldn't express. Maybe that was enough? He opened his mouth again, looking to the small woman who had her eyes closed, still crying softly. </p><p>“Viiii-ugh.” </p><p> </p><p>Viola opened her eyes and looked up to him. She tilted her head slightly. No. that still wasn’t correct. He closed his mouth and simply growled softly again, she smiled and closed her eyes again. </p><p>He would leave it. </p><p>Gascoigne felt something akin to fatigue begin to take hold, so he un-clasped his hands from her and gently lay down again, closing his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Viola smiled and stood up, wiping the last of her remaining tears. She looked back to the house, it was late, but dawn was still a fair way off. She looked at the lamp that still flickered gently. And back to the house again, if she left now, she would at least have a decent night's sleep. She felt calmed, at ease. Emotions that almost felt foreign now. But she thought of the bed, cold, barely used, the feeling of loneliness and forlornness would be sure to return. </p><p>She turned her gaze back to Gascoigne, breathing softly with his eyes closed. She smiled and picked up the lamp and began to walk towards the house across the cold pavement. </p><p>As she approached the fountain she stopped, clutching the lantern to her chest, and looked back. Gascoigne’s eyes reflected the light, appearing as if they were shining just like a cat’s. She turned around and tilted her head. She felt her heartbeat begin to rise again. </p><p>She broke back into a fast walk, towards him. </p><p>He saw her coming back towards him and widened his eyes, as she opened her arms, discarding the lantern with a clang and flung them around his neck the best she could. </p><p> </p><p>“If I can no longer have you near me in the house, then I’ll simply come to you.” she whispered, moving to scratch the space under his ears. </p><p>Gascoigne closed his eyes briefly, before moving his hand to hold her against him, feeling her sink deeper into the fur, she seemed even more calmed by his large hand pressed against her back. </p><p>Viola felt warm, safe, and seen. Emotions and feelings that she hadn’t truly felt since he had vanished from her. But he was here, still thinking of her. </p><p>She drew her cloak around herself as she shifted her position, with her back leaning against him, just to the side of his jaw, which he lowered down onto the ground. She leaned against him, as his hand lowered to cover her legs. And began to close her eyes. She felt him shudder slightly, followed by a deep, rumbling sound. She opened her eyes and tilted her head. </p><p>Purring in contentment. She stifled a laugh, he truly was just an overgrown cat, but also her husband. Nothing would be the same, and she had to get used to that, but that didn’t mean it would all be horrible. </p><p> </p><p>She sunk down deeper into the fur. As she closed her eyes, the last thing she heard was a guttural growling sound. She could only just make it out, but she smiled as she drifted off. </p><p><br/>
“<em>Viola</em>.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Don't speak... Just, listen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Okay the originally intended chronological aspect was seemingly a lie… this is set a few nights before the events of the last piece. </p><p>This installment is all centred around the idea of communication and is more focused on Henryk and Gascoigne relationship... with far less action and more pseudo-philosophical ramblings from Djura than I originally intended, but hey, we’re out here just vibing. </p><p> </p><p>And going forward I’ll probably alternate between more ‘plot’ based pieces and just straight up self-indulgent softer stuff.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Gascoigne! Get back here… Where are you going?”</p><p>Henryk felt a shot of pain through his right knee and drew to a stop, leaning down with his hands on his knees, he desperately tried to catch his breath and reduce the throbbing which he assured himself was anything but arthritis and pains of aging. He watched the grey beast leap effortlessly onto a rooftop before lunging out of sight.</p><p>The damned beast was too fast now, and just as stubborn as before. Henryk knew he could clearly understand him to some extent, so he knew damn well that Henryk wasn’t keeping up… and yet he ignored him. Damn bastard, Henryk swore he was doing this intentionally.</p><p>Henryk drew a hand to wipe the clammy sweat from his brow and looked to the skyline of Yharnam. Dawn would be breaking soon as the soft tones of blush and pale yellow would soon replace the bluish-grey line of the sky. The hunt was coming to an end anyway, there were few beasts still skulking around, and fewer gnawing at the remains of corpses and defiled bodies.</p><p>Henryk stood up and looked to the rooftop where Gascoigne had disappeared to. Curse that man… beast. What kind of hunting partner just up and abandons his damn comrade? Gods forbid, he would have to find some way to explain just how much of a bastard he was being to him. Usually Henryk actually found the more recent hunts as rather amusing and had passed off a lot of the rougher aspects as adjustment to the new ways in which his partner hunted. But it wasn’t getting any better if anything, it seemed like communication between them was worsening.</p><p>Henryk broke into a sprint and, using the bar of a twisted iron gate, launched himself to the gutter of the building, hauling himself up with a degree of difficulty as he jammed his saw cleaver into the tiles for a slightly better grasp. He ran to the peak and looked down into the twisted alleys below. There was no sign of Gascoigne, gods he wasn’t easy to spot usually with all the grey fur blending in with the overbearingly drab city, but the waning night and the lightening colours of the heralding dawn, only made it more so. Henryk considered the likelihood of where he could have run away so suddenly to… He supposed Gascoigne was the type to bound back to Central Yharnam so he could ensure Viola and Addie’s safety, though according to Viola he was seemingly avoiding her. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that things were nowhere near as well as he claimed previously, but at least they were both still alive he supposed. </p><p>Henryk sighed and slowly lowered himself off the roof to the cold, bloodstained pavement below, and broke into a sprint towards the aqueducts.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Safe.</p><p>They were safe, he could smell the scent of linseed mixed with the acidic, pungent scent of the incense which was harsh enough to make him snarl in disgust. He turned away moved silently through the empty plaza and up the stairs to the higher, more populated sections of the area. He ignored the shuffling and subsequent noises of terror as one or two civilians bravely glanced out their windows before quickly drawing the drapes again.</p><p>He would do one more round before retreating to the darker, emptier parts of the aqueducts. They were repugnant and overrun with beasts that never allowed for any silence or isolation, and were seemingly always aggressive, even when he had no intention of engaging with them… did they realise he hunted down beasts similar to them when they roamed upper Yharnam? Though such thoughts and ponderings caused nothing but confusion and at times, pain for him, so he put it far from his present concerns.   </p><p>Coming up the stairs and turning to the opening of the Great Bridge, Gascoigne felt his fur stand up on end as he smelt the scent of another scourge beast. He lowered himself closer to the ground and began to creep forward, silently baring his fangs in a vicious snarl. He could see the beast up ahead. It was injured on its side, with the bloody ribs exposed through the wiry, black fur. It panted and rasped with pain as it padded around the stone path, whining from time to time.</p><p>Gascoigne considered letting it go, but there was no telling if it got aggressive again and attacked. The grey beast approached carefully, if this one attacked, only then would he retaliate, he was too tired to be bothered to initiate. The scourge beast noticed him and leapt back and yelped before snarling and lowering itself for an attack. It lunged towards the assailant.</p><p>Gascoigne growled with annoyance, so that’s how it was going to be. He flexed his claws and lowered his stance. He heard every pant, every click of claws on the stone, every drop of blood from the wound. As the beast got closer, Gascoigne felt the brief excitement of the hunt as lunged to meet it, just shifting to the left and reaching around with his claws to rake down the side of the beast. As it screeched, he lunched again and wrapped his jaw around the jugular, and in one brief moment, snapped down hard.</p><p>The body went limp almost immediately and he dropped it onto the cold stones, watching the blood flow down and run in the cracks of the weathered bricks. The brief exhilaration of his kill faded quickly as he narrowed his gaze at the prey.</p><p>There was a word for this creature, what it looked like… he couldn’t think of it. More things that still remained just behind a fog like veil. When he looked into his disjointed, often confusing memories, usually it evoked emotions of fear and confusion, but starting down at the cooling corpse of the enemy, he thought of something else. The shape of the muzzle, the skull…. It was a beast… but what else…</p><p>Wolf… wolf… black, grey wolf…beasts…. Wolf…</p><p>Gascoigne mentally repeated the word. He had found it, but also something else, something that evoked emotions of… anger… no, annoyance, like when the hunter kept talking at him over and over again, not seeming to understand him and yet expect him to be able to comprehend him… but there was something else within the other disjointed images, seemingly distance, unimportant, but he couldn’t shake the feeling there was something worth investigating.</p><p>Gascoigne inclined his head and looked to the ledges that lead the upper areas, the ones that reeked most intensity of incense with a somewhat cold, alien feeling above this stone structure, where a great beast once guarded. There was a… passage somewhere there… yes… somewhere safe… but not for him then, but now… it may be different. Somewhere there were beasts… but ones that threatened no one…</p><p>
  <em>“I’m telling you… you’ll regret this one day.” </em>
</p><p>A voice, it pierced through the fog and alighted brief, flashing memories. But one’s that the scourge beast couldn’t quite figure out. He heard the words, but just couldn’t understand their meaning, nor place them to who had said that…</p><p>Gascoigne lowered his head to the corpse and tentatively lapped at the blood, noticing how dry his throat felt. It was vile in its taste, like the acrid sour blood was combined with rot mix, but it was serviceable and would be enough to keep him going till the next hunt.</p><p>The wolf…. Not the bestial one still bleeding out… the other one that spoke… Gascoigne thought to the image again. A grey wolf… no… a hunter. But he wasn’t the important part, just an aspect of it. Although there was something about him… something he had said a lifetime ago, something that Gascoigne knew he hated to admit… but what was to admit? To whom? Nevertheless, it was where the figure was that was of importance. Gascoigne closed his eyes and tried to recall anything from the place. He could remember…ash… smoke… beasts… lots of beasts….</p><p>Maybe… there may be something there…</p><p> </p><p>“There you are you bastard!”</p><p>Gascoigne opened his eyes growled slightly in annoyance, ignoring the approaching figure. The hunter didn’t seem to understand at all as Gascoigne lowered his head back down to the corpse and began to lick away at the pooling blood again.</p><p>Henryk was both relieved and somewhat disgusted as he slowed down and came to stand next to the beast. So, he had been right, Gascoigne was indeed ensuring the safety of the area, or just wanting to continue the hunt. Which was all well and good, brilliant even, but they really needed to figure out some kind of method of communication. Speaking barely worked, but only because Gascoigne couldn’t respond… even if Henryk was convinced that his hunting partner understood him and just chose to ignore him. Hand signals weren’t functional either, nor was just screaming senselessly, which, as much as he hated to admit it, he had actually tried.</p><p>“Hey… I’m speaking to you. You can’t just leap off without some kind of warning… at least screech at me or something…” Henryk stated, leaning down, and roughly ruffled his mane.</p><p>Gascoigne continued to ignore the hunter, trying not to gag on the repugnant blood. That was far more pressing as far as issues went.</p><p>Henryk lent forward and poked the top of the beasts head a few times. No response. Hmmm, usually that at least resulted in a growl, or a ‘playful’ pushback that had once sent Henryk off the ledge of a roof. Anyone with half a mind knew it wasn’t wise to even look at a beast, let alone approach one whilst it was feeding and then annoyingly poke at it. But Henryk thought that if he just ignored those factors than it was more like him being the irritating old hunter he was supposed to be by generic societal standards.</p><p>“Are you okay?” The Hunter asked, retracting his hand, as he noticed seemingly look of disgust or at the least, displeasure on the beast’s face.</p><p>Gascoigne only growled in response and stood up and looked down to the hunter. He appeared to be… concerned…. Or annoyed… it was near impossible to tell.</p><p>Gascoigne barked lightly at him, as if it could perhaps be an acknowledgement or even a goodbye, and immediately began to walk away along the great bridge, towards Cathedral Ward. Henryk narrowed his gaze,</p><p>“It’s almost dawn… Cathedral Ward isn’t the best place right now.” Henryk called after him, but was seemingly, still being ignored. Gods whatever Gascoigne had planned surely couldn’t have been good if he was heading towards Cathedral Ward when the denizens would begin to emerge from their fearful trembling with the rise of the sun.</p><p>Henryk looked back towards Central Yharnam, he could go visit Eileen’s place, see if she was around and then go to a much needed sleep… but he turned back to Gascoigne who was looking up to the upper levels of Cathedral Ward, seemingly readying himself to jump. Henryk sighed, and turned to follow his hunting partner.</p><p>***</p><p>“Gascoigne… slow down….”</p><p>Henryk hissed as he followed his hunting partner down passed Oedon Chapel, not disturbing the Church Servants that were still making their final rounds. Gascoigne of course, did not listen and continued to skulk quickly throughout the graveyard before leaping down a flight of stairs silently, hunting partner in tow.</p><p>“After this I’m putting a collar on you, you overgrown mutt…” Henryk hissed as he jogged to keep up.</p><p>Gascoigne came to an abrupt stop at the base of the stairwell, staring intently ahead, seemingly at the small church, head only slightly moving as he triangulated his hearing.</p><p>Henryk stopped next to him and looked to the sky, within minutes dawn would break properly as the first streaks of blush and purple began to chase away the hunt with the rising sun. Henryk had only taken his eyes of Gascoigne for a moment before he noticed the beast had already moved towards the ornate archway that led into the Church.</p><p>“A collar with a bell…” Henryk muttered, rolling his eyes before following the beast.</p><p>Gascoigne crouched low and began to survey the area. Something was off… something was missing… he wasn’t sure what. He closed his eyes and tried to recall. The memories were seemingly obscured by a dense fog, he could make barely anything out. Just... darkness, claustrophobia and then the strong scent of smoke and burning flesh.</p><p>Darkness…</p><p>Gascoigne opened his eyes and moved to the centre of the room and reared up onto his hind legs, reaching out and clawing at the central stone sarcophagus. He tried to recall what why this object was vital, but the fog was still too bleak and all-consuming. He snarled ever so slightly in annoyance.</p><p>Henryk cocked his head slightly and looked at the expression of seeming annoyance and confusion on Gascoigne. The sarcophagus, it was an old secret, the tunnels down there led to…</p><p>“Ahhh, Old Yharnam…”</p><p>Realisation dawned on Henryk like a sudden tonne of bricks falling upon him. Gods why didn’t he realise it before. So, Gascoigne was considerably more cogent than he had thought previously. But that also confirmed his suspicion that his hunting partner, was indeed, ignoring him half the time. Which he would need to somehow have a discussion about later.</p><p>Henryk walked up to the beast and poked its arm. The beast stepped back and dropped back onto all fours, staring down at the hunter, causing Henryk to step back slightly… Gods why did he have to get even taller. It was bad enough when he was human, but now it just felt like he was mocking him.</p><p>Henryk sighed and rubbed his aching eyes. “Wait <em>here</em>.” He said firmly and clearly, point to the ground, as he began to move towards the lever.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Nothing.</p><p>Good.</p><p>That’s what he liked to see, hopefully there would be fewer concerns as the hunt drew to an end.</p><p>The worn hunter stepped down from the gatling gun and leaned against it, removing his cap for a moment, and pressing into his temples in a pointless attempt to alleviate a headache that was decades old. He groaned and looked down to the plaza. Lukas was still making his rounds stopping only as one of the beasts approached him, he extended his hand as the old patient moved it to be scratched on the top of the scalp.</p><p>Djura stood up, and moved to the edge of the clocktower, putting his cap back on and raising his hand with a soft whistle. Lukas inclined his head and motioned with his saw spear, still scratching the beast.</p><p>The hunts had been getting longer and longer, nights more vicious and more and more hunters were coming to Old Yharnam for some godsforsaken reason. Either they were all illiterate or really enjoyed placing cat and mouse with two hunters, numerous beast patients and a gatling gun. Either way, none had made it to the lower sections in the decades he’d been here. So, there was that.</p><p> </p><p>“GURAAAAAAA!”</p><p>Djura snaped from his thoughts and jolted around to the right, trying to locate the noise. That was a beast, that much was unmistakable, but it sounded like a large, young scourge beast… like the ones that never left the lower part of Old Yharnam.</p><p>Djura narrowed his gaze and fished for his monocular in his shredded pocket, but he barely needed it.</p><p>As he saw the black scourge beast, he assumed was screeching, fly through the doors that led to Cathedral Ward, seemingly pushed by something with an insane amount of force.</p><p>The beast’s yelp echoed off the buildings, causing many of the other beast patients to snarl or back away.</p><p>Djura placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply snapping Lukas back into action. He raised his monocular to his eye and placed a hand on the gatling gun. Breathing out slowly and readying himself to give the same warning he had who knows how many times.</p><p>What Djura didn’t expect, was a large grey beast to leap with a ferocious snarl at the still recovering black beast. Djura’s jaw hug slightly open as he watched the grey beast skulk towards the black beast, causing it to yip and snarl before it began to back away in a complete state of fear and shock, whilst the significantly larger beast just kept moving towards it.</p><p>The injured beast yelped again as it backed away and lost its footing. Crashing down into the lower levels of Old Yharnam. Djura couldn’t tell whether it was alive or not… but the attacking beast still approached the space.</p><p>Djura snapped and reached for the trigger of the gatling gun, aiming as quickly as he could and with a significant amount of tension, fired a warning so between the grey beast and the ledge that the black one had fallen off of. The grey beast backed away with a snarl and raised itself up onto two legs, staring directly at Djura. The retired hunter furrowed his brow… was the beast genuinely looking directly at him? Or just in his general direction… through the monocular Djura could see the beast had stopped snarling and was just seemingly staring, though it was hard to make out from the distance even with the monocular.  </p><p>Djura swallowed dryly and removed his finger from the trigger. The beast was large and vicious enough to be a former cleric or hunter… but Eileen would have taken care of them… it was rare for hunter’s to ever succumb due to that factor… so, perhaps a cleric?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“I told you that would happen!” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Djura heard a muffled, distant voice that was clearly yelling rather loudly, and moved his finger back on the trigger. A figure in a hunter’s uniform emerged from the door as well, seemingly nervous as the glanced around before walking right up to the grey beast and pushing its limp arm, seemingly in annoyance.</p><p>Djura felt his jaw drop for the second time as he raised himself up and removed the monocular from his eye. That hunter…. Their uniform, yellow. By the Gods… that obnoxious yellow of a geriatric Workshop Hunter. A hunter that had refused to listen to Djura as so many others had, that was now here, seemingly <em>with</em> a beast.</p><p>Djura swallowed hard and looked to Lukas who was peering over, trying to locate the beast that had fallen. He turned his attention to the uninvited guest.</p><p>He licked his dry lips and stood up on the broken barrier of the roof, readjusting his Stake Driver.</p><p>“Hunter!” he called out.</p><p>He saw the yellow figure whip around before following the beast’s lead and staring directly in his direction.</p><p>“Djura! It’s Henryk! Don’t shoot!” the Hunter called out firmly.</p><p>Djura sighed and shook his head, he was right. By the Wrath of Mother Kos why did he now decide to show up.</p><p>“All I see is a hunter! Leave now!” he yelled back.</p><p>“I would, but I’m following him for some godsforsaken reason!” Henryk called back, inclining to the beast who seemed to be sniffing around at the air.</p><p>Djura’s eye widened. Had Henryk finally accepted some morality? Was it possible? He turned his attention to the beast. It looked similar to one he had seen a while ago, roughly the same size, similar body shape, though this one was seemingly more aggressive and volatile. He would need to inspect it and get a better look up close, provided it didn’t bite his head off.</p><p>The beast just dropped onto all fours and began to move towards the bridge, and into Old Yharnam. Henryk went to follow but cast a glance at the clocktower. Djura placed his finger on the trigger and considered his options. Some of the beast patients slowly approached the beast, sniffing the air and darting away from it, until one got particularly bold and stepped right in its path. The larger beast snarled but made no offensive moves, so the patient slinked away. Djura turned his attention back to Henryk and with a wave of his hand in a clear manner, motioned for Henryk to approach. Thankfully, he made no moves to attack the beasts, and leapt away from them when they approached. Gods if Gascoigne was here, Djura didn’t know if he would have been able to stop him from fighting any beast that looked at him the wrong way. Though that was being harsh. Gascoigne may not ever heed the truth, but the times he had come to Old Yharnam, he had never so much as approached the beasts with violent intent. But he knew how brutal he could be when he got into the hunt.</p><p>Wait…. Henryk was here, without his partner. But they always hunted together... Wait…</p><p>Djura glanced back at the beast. He <em>really</em> needed a closer look. He turned from the gatling gun and raced to the ladder, sliding down before walking to the next one. He got to the ground and began to ascend to the plaza, where Lukas was glancing around suspiciously. Just as the grey beast leapt down from the broken and mangled stone wall, Henryk in tow.</p><p>Djura crossed his arms and stared at the two. The beast stopped but remained standing and ready to leap and strike at any time it seemed, Djura shifted his gaze up and down, before settling on the bloodstained bandages that covered the beast’s eyes. He could feel the gaze from underneath them, but more pressing was the clearly irritated and stressed Henryk coming from behind and planting himself between the beast and Djura.</p><p>“Djura first of all thank you for not shredding me with the gun… and second of all, since you haven’t been upstairs since, I assume, your last bath, we’ve had a bit of a development, ahh… you se-“</p><p>Henryk was cut off by Djura made a coughing noise and covering his mouth with a gloved hand.</p><p>Henryk raised an eyebrow. But Djura coughed again, and again, and then again. Before outright releasing a barking, harsh laugh, leaning back for a moment and had to step to steady himself, still maintaining the harsh, barking laugh. Henryk couldn’t think of any time ever he had heard Djura genuinely laugh at anything, let alone smile, his entire personality was either sullen or aggressive, or a mix of the two. He glanced to Gascoigne, who was just staring at Djura, and then to his ally, who’s jaw was slack and the hold on his weapons loose.</p><p>Djura bent over and put his hands on his knees before assertively pointing at Gascoigne.</p><p>“I… Told you…” He stammered out between breaths. “I… warned… you all.” He broke into a fit of cruel laughter again.</p><p>Henryk had an unfortune feeling he knew where this was going and rolled his eyes in anticipation.</p><p>“…Henryk… I want to hear you say it…” Djura smirked, standing up and crossing his arms.</p><p>“Not happening…”</p><p>“Oh, come on, admit I was right and always have been.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Say it Henryk… <em>Beasts… are… people</em>.”</p><p>Henryk was about to retort again but noticed Gascoigne had move away slightly, he was crouched down rigidly, fur on end as one of the emaciated, hooded beast patents tentatively approached him. He looked uncomfortable if not somewhat hostile to say the least and flexed his claws in an aggressive display, yet he allowed it to approach closer. And as it raised itself towards his head, Gascoigne allowed it to briefly to gain a sense of understanding, before growling aggressively to seemingly tell it to move away. It responded with a slight hiss but slinked away, though not far.</p><p>Henryk turned back to Djura, who had a wicked glint in his eye. “Say it…”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“So, is that beast not Gascoigne then? Your hunting partner? Is it just a mindless killer, running only on instinct? Tell me Henryk what is it? Is it a person or are you a hypocrite?”</p><p>Henryk narrowed his gaze and walked up to Djura, staring at his single, eye, gleaming with enjoyment of the situation.</p><p>“He was and now he isn’t and now… fuck...” Henryk sighed and looked to the ground, “He may not be mindless but he’s as much of a killer as the rest of us.”</p><p>Djura rolled his eye and walked right past Henryk towards Gascoigne, who raised up from the beast patient that has approached him again and looked at him with a seemingly intense gaze maintained behind the bandages. Djura tilted his head, and to Henryk’s shock and annoyance, Gascoigne growled and returned the motion slightly. Djura knelt down and extended his hand. Gascoigne maintained his position for a while, before relenting and crouching down slightly, though he didn’t extend his muzzle to sniff at him, as any other semi-rational beast would have done, but rather reached out with his clawed hand and lightly touched Djura’s glove, before retracting and crouching pensively, tail drawn around his legs.</p><p>Djura narrowed his gaze. So, he had been correct in his suspicion. The beast, Gascoigne had more rationality and comprehension within him than many of the others, enough to be able to possibly recognise him, but verbal communication would still be out seemingly… and it seemed as if Henryk was struggling with it.   </p><p>“Henryk, you were yelling at him when you both came in… do you often attempt, ah, verbal communication?” Djura asked, reaching out to Gascoigne again, but as that earned a threatening growl of warning, he backed off.</p><p>“How else am I supposed to? He’s smarter than a dog but still won’t respond to verbal commands, or hand signals, or anything.” Henryk muttered, crossing his arms.</p><p>“Makes sense… maybe he’s just being a bastard? It wouldn’t be out of character, even now.”</p><p>“I can’t deny that, but how would you even know?”</p><p>“You have been mocking me for years calling me the beast whisperer and now you turn around and question me?”</p><p>Henryk felt his annoyance rise even more. So, Gascoigne was indeed ignoring him, Djura was being a complete cock about all of this.</p><p>Djura spoke up again, observing the critical gaze of Gascoigne from the slight gap between the bandages, “If you want to hear my theory, which I’m going to tell you irrespective. I think he’s either annoyed at the whole situation, or… or maybe he is just being a bastard to you specifically… perhaps try and communicate non-verbally in future.” Djura stated and stood up, turning back to face Henryk, who was looking increasingly irritated and tired. Djura raised and eyebrow and briefly glanced back to Gascoigne, who was being approached by another curious beast, which still seemed to be making him highly uncomfortable.</p><p>“Henryk… why do you think Gascoigne came here?”</p><p>“Look I have literally no idea what goes on in his head...” Henryk muttered, rubbing his eyes and dropping his shoulders.</p><p>Djura shook his head and turned back to Gascoigne, who was now being approached by the female beast patient again, who was softly screeching at him alongside the other. Henryk was blocking at every turn, as he was being forced to contend with his new reality would always be difficult, but he clearly needed to deconstruct his thinking around such matters.</p><p>“It’s safe for beasts here, and he seems to recall the rules around killing them, despite his clear aggression towards them, and if I was in his position, I sure as hell wouldn’t be making the more populated parts of Yharnam home…”</p><p>Henryk sighed and nodded his head slightly at that. It made enough sense he supposed.</p><p>“… and he seems to be able to recognise people… keeping in mind the last time I spoke to him was years ago… and we had the same disagreement back then… In a way, I think he’s here now not only for safety, but also…I think he’s acknowledged the truth of the hunt, or was forced to, if he can still rationalise that…”</p><p>Henryk felt his blood run hotter than it had in a very long time. He had to prevent himself from decking Djura right there and then. He took a slow, controlled breath out and stepped closer, looking Djura dead in the eye.</p><p>“You’re making this about you damn complex? This?! Viola has lost her husband, Addie, her father, and I lost my closest friend! Are you serious Djura!” Henryk snapped.</p><p>Djura sighed and threw his hands up in mock defeat, rolling his eye, “Okay that was out of line, I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Gods Djura… you don’t get it… how could you, you’ve never had a family… Gascoigne succumbed, leaving behind Viola and Adelaide… now what Djura? Where are we supposed to go from here? How am I meant to handle this… when the same will happen to me sooner or later?”</p><p>Djura inhaled sharply. So that was it, he was terrified for his family when he succumbed as well. Dealing with a now bestial hunting partner was only a small drop in the bucket.</p><p>He looked to Gascoigne, who was now standing, staring at Henryk, ignoring the beast patient that was nudging his arm. He silent padded over and stood next to the distraught hunter, sitting down just bedside him, looking rather like an overgrown housecat. Henryk looked to him and reached out his hand despondently. Gascoigne pricked his ears and lowered his head, allowing Henryk to ruffle the top of his mane for a moment before he withdrew. The hunter sighed and smiled ever so slightly underneath his mask, that was a rarity.</p><p>Djura watched the exchange with interest, perhaps something could come of this, in some way. “Listen, Henryk… just some advice going forward, and you’ll listen because you need it… try to watch and listen to him more on the hunt… because godsforbid I know you two won’t stop that… and… try to aim for beasts that are actually causing harm.”</p><p>Henryk looked to Djura and then back to Gascoigne, who till seemed on edge with the beasts slowly moving towards him in relentless curiosity. He sighed,</p><p>“You hunt hunters that threaten your beasts… but you’re willing to allow a beast around here that you know will leave the night of the hunt to come join the slaughter with me? Really Djura you called me a hypocrite?”</p><p>Djura only rolled his eye and sighed, crossing his arms and walking to lean against one the stone bannisters. “The world is hypocritical… we’ve just got to deal with that…”</p><p>Henryk sighed at that and rubbed his increasingly heavy eyelids as Gascoigne inclined his head, seemingly looking to the soft, early morning sun. Henryk felt a wash of fatigue, he needed to get to sleep soon before he collapsed, and he had quite the distance to go. But at least understood why Gascoigne had been determined to come here now.</p><p>He looked back to the dilapidated building, that was his best way out. He turned to Gascoigne once more and reach up to try and tap him goodbye</p><p>But as Gascoigne noticed, had other ideas and snagged Henryk closer with his claws and briskly rubbed his muzzle over the Hunters head and cap. Henryk yelped with shock but couldn’t move, Gascoigne was far too strong and continued to hold him in position.</p><p>Henryk was in shock and had the irrational fear that Gascogne may just bite his head off for annoying him. Djura just nodded as if he understood everything. Lukas just maintained his perched position on a bannister, watching what was quickly becoming the finest entertainment in years for him.</p><p>Eventually Gascoigne released him and moved onto all fours. Licking his incisors as he moved past Djura and towards the lower sections of Old Yharnam.  </p><p>“Oh Gods… what does that mean…” Henryk stammered out, rigid yet shaking.  </p><p>“Well…” Djura began, tapping his finger methodically in thought, “…hmmm, I reckon it’s to help cover your natural scent, it may deter the beasts here, though your smell as a hunter will always permeate stronger.” Djura stated with the accumulated beastly knowledge that came with being an eco-warlord.</p><p>“Oh Gods…” Muttered Henryk.</p><p>Djura sighed and cross his arms. Staring at the still taken aback Henryk and the now yawning beast. Djura turned around and narrowed his eyes at Gascoigne again who was perched just on the edge of the platform. This form he had taken. It wasn’t all that unique really... maybe…</p><p>“Henryk… all uh, complexes aside, I just have one more question.”</p><p>“Hmmm?” Henryk muttered, still attempting to wipe some of the saliva from his cap.</p><p>“Have you ever stumbled upon a beast… similar build and size to Gascoigne… but covered in dark fur… sparking with electricity?”</p><p>“What, electricity? Do you mean the… uh… Darkbeast down in the graveyard?”</p><p>Djura breathed deeply. It wasn’t surprising,</p><p>“No, not Paarl… a rather, unique specimen, not to say a pile of electrified bones isn’t… But this other one, saw it down in the darker, emptier parts of Old Yharnam, stood feet above me, a glint of something dark in its expression… it looked me dead in the eye, and spoke to me, lucidly…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’ve never tried to write from a non-humanoid perspective before so if my struggle was clear I do apologise. But that’s on me not remotely being even a semi-practiced creative writer I suppose, but I also reckon this counts as practice.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Living Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This instalment is once again just focused on the dynamics between Gascoigne and Viola and how the clear factor of very human traits can be interpreted, featuring not a great deal of action and seeing how memories play a role in forming who people are even after succumbing and losing their humanity.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note: I do not hate the English</p><p>Also yeah I’m sure that this interpretation may not be in line with canon… but really Viola doesn’t have much character outside being ‘dead’, so I’m improvising and just kinda running with it because goddamnit I need to more about her and there is just so little.</p><p>Thank you for the comments, kudos and just anyone who read this and I’m always open for advice since this may just be a bit of fun to clear my head of academic writing, but I would like it to still be decent enough :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Viola shifted in order to be able to look into the stars better, resulting in Gascoigne growling softly, as if asking if she was alright. Viola smiled and placed a gentle hand on the top of his mane and scratching softly, earning a far softer, almost purr like growl.</p><p>“I’m fine.” she whispered, leaning forward and placing a light kiss on the ridge of his nose before turning her gaze back to the sky, to the moon, which was almost entirely full, in its final waxing gibbous.</p><p>It illuminated all of Yharnam in a soft, gentle glow that almost made her forget the hunt was raging on. Though the stench of burnt flesh, the roar of beasts and huntsmen alike and the sharp, ringing tones of firearms being shot broke the illusion quite dramatically. Even so, she was glad that Henryk had chosen to take the night off for undisclosed reasons. She assumed it was the fatigue of aging again, healing blood seemed to only help so much. But she was glad for it, it meant that Gascoigne actually spend time with around her for at least one night in many.</p><p>Gascoigne stared out across Yharnam, trying to ignore the vile scent that many of the buildings used to ward off beasts or the rot that drifted up from the aqueducts, and tried to focus on the scent of linseed and something herbal that was indicative of Viola. If felt almost right, having her leaned against him, seemingly calm and relaxed. Even if he knew something was missing, but it was something he couldn’t quite place it.</p><p>“Do you recall when we used to go to Cathedral Ward and look out upon Yharnam on those few nights you were off the hunt, we would sit on the bridge of the Church Workshop, and Gods the view was gorgeous from up there.” Viola posed gently, breaking the silence, and pressing herself further into the long, coarse fur.</p><p>Gascoigne didn’t respond for a moment, as if contemplating or perhaps he didn’t understand her. But eventually, barked very quietly and very slightly lowered his had before bringing it up again and growling faintly.</p><p><em>Was that a nod</em>? Viola wasn’t entirely sure, but it seemed like one, which would make sense… If her and Henryk’s theory was correct.</p><p>There was something about the full moon and even the days leading up to it. She had seen Gascoigne once on it and he had seemed different somehow, he growled less and seemed far more confused, even choosing to walk on his hind legs at times. Almost… human like. Henryk had stated it was the closest to the Bloodmoon he had seen once, when the line between man and beast was blurred. Perhaps, just perhaps Gascoigne could understand more then, comprehend things without the fog of bestial instinct being as all-encompassing. The full moon usually made beasts more aggressive and the citizens more warped and distrusting, but Gascoigne seemed to have the opposite reaction. So, whatever it was, she would need to look into it.</p><p>Gascoigne shifted slightly and raised his arm to gently touch the top of Viola’s head before trailing down and resting it next to her. Viola smiled and reached to scratch along his jaw again. Clearly, he understood just how much strength to use even better than before, and he understood her body language at least, as well as various emotions. So, there was that… but there was still plenty missing… plenty she wanted back if she could.</p><p>“Love? Do you recall coming to visit me in my studio occasionally? When the hunt was over you would come to watch me paint or just read in the corner for a few hours between my classes?”</p><p>Viola watched as the beast’s face twitched slightly, and his ears began to swivel. She continued, “You would read books on all sorts of topics, philosophy, biology and sometimes you read them to me… can you recall that you read those newspapers and, ah, unique texts discussing how your countrymen were planning to rid themselves of the English?”</p><p>The beast actually growled verbally, almost yelp like, but softer, yet it was aggressive somewhat. Viola stiffened slightly, but knew it wasn’t because of anything she had done, but … maybe… just maybe…</p><p>Viola swallowed dryly and shifted slightly so she could see his eyes obscured by the bandages better,</p><p>“Gascoigne… when we first began to see each other, I asked you what the most vicious and repulsive beasts you had seen were… and you…you answered the English.” She whispered before attempting to suppress her slight laughter with a cough. Though to this day she herself couldn’t be sure whether he was joking or not.</p><p>The beast began to purr loudly, but disjointedly.</p><p><em>Was… was that laughter?</em> <em>Was that even possible. Oh, Gods</em>. Viola hated the idea that it was a dislike of the English, and not his closeness and bonds with her, Addie or even Henryk that could evoke such human reactions in him.</p><p>Viola actually felt slightly annoyed by that. She turned away from his head and went back to observing the nearly full moon. But she never expected Gascoigne to raise his hand again and placed it on her shoulder and arm as he inclined his head to her and pressed his muzzle to her neck as she relented and reclined further, just where the mane began near the neck. Where she could hear his rhythmic heartbeat and feel the warmth he radiated, and in a way, it was pleasant, reminding her of how things used to be.</p><p>Gascoigne began to growl slightly, caching Viola’s attention as he moved his arm slowly, placing his hand against her chest, holding her gently as he moved his head closer to her still. It reminded Viola of how he used to stand behind her, moving his arms to gently clutch her around her torso as he rested his head against her shoulder. She missed that dearly, it had made her feel seen and valued, as if he could read her in a way no one else had been able to truly comprehend. And even now, he was still able to show that. Viola broke into a grin and leaned further into him, allowing him to gently lick her jawbone.</p><p>It was a brilliant development really. And did prove that there was a possibility for almost human interactions to occur. Which filled her with hope and both longing. She couldn’t deny that it was getting better, and she valued these moments dearly, enjoying the increasingly less foreign closeness that she could share with him again.</p><p>She wished she could capture it, the feelings, the moment. Preserve it forever like a painting.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Viola widened her gaze as an idea dawned. She smiled slyly. There may be an advantage here. Viola began to raise herself up, earning a whine of confusion from Gascoigne as he moved his hand off her, but once he saw her stand, reached out to lightly grasp at her.</p><p>“I’ll be back in a second.” She whispered softly, reaching out and briefly running her hand down his, before walking around to the door of the house. She opened it softly and walked to the drawing room, which had become little more than a disorganised art studio for the house. She so rarely entertained guests and now that it was only her and Addie, there was little reason to not use whatever empty space they had. Tarps, bottles, canvases, and easels took up the majority of the space, leaving room for boxes and crates of finished, or incomplete works. Works that were more sentimental, that she didn’t wish for her students or the public to gaze upon, thus had to be removed from the more public studio in the centre of Yharnam.</p><p>Gascoigne had adored to watch her paint, though despite years of propositioning him to allow her to paint or at least sketch him, he had always declined.  It was never his thing, he seemingly hated having to sit still and was rather reserved and shy when it came to such things. So, Viola had propositioned she just memorise his features, but still he refused. In all their years together, he had only ever allowed her to sketch him once, and it had become increasingly treasured to her after he had succumbed.</p><p>Viola smiled softly and walked towards the side cabinet, collected a few sheets of paper, graphite and just a few, neutral coloured pastels. It was going to be a long night; she may as well take advantage of it.</p><p>Viola walked back towards the door but stopped before the threshold. She breathed out audibly, and turned back to the drawing room, and made a beeline towards a small crate that sat haphazardly on the sofa. She leant down and began to flick through the sketches and pastel works until her gaze settled on the one she wanted. She smiled and held it up in the pale moonlight, illuminating the dark lines and gentle shading on the fading and slightly crinkled parchment.</p><p>Viola clutched it gently along with the other art supplies and entered back into the crisp night. As she turned the corner, she saw Gascoigne still lying there, looking in her direction as she approached. She smiled and sat across from him, laying out her supplies.</p><p>Gascoigne narrowed his gaze slightly. Viola usually sat close to him and when she did, it felt right, calming and at times even confusingly electrifying. But now as she positioned herself across from him, he didn’t like where this was going.</p><p>Viola put down the last pastel, and looked to Gascoigne, who was regarding her with a seemingly critical expression. She smirked slightly but had other plans first. She picked up the old sketch from her side, and moved close to him for a second, leaning into his shoulder, sketch clutched to her chest.</p><p>Gascoigne lowered his head and sniffed at the paper, making a slight growling sound as he raised his head back up.</p><p>Viola breathed in and extended her arm, allowing both of them to look at the sketch.</p><p>It was slightly faded, and incomplete. But that didn’t matter. Gascoigne made a slightly guttural yip, seemingly of surprise and moved his head closer to the paper, raising a clawed hand to disjointedly and inefficiently move some of the bandages away from his eyes. Viola smiled and rested her head against his, trying to make out his thoughts through the few human like features.</p><p>It was a half body sketch, through colourless in some areas, it was the only sketch she had of him. His face turned to the side and slightly obscured by then-greying hair, staring down at the infant Addie in his arms. If one looked close they could just make out the expression of joy on his face as the baby stared back, its arms held in those odd, high positions infants often had before they gained control over their movements.</p><p>She heard another deep growl from Gascoigne, so she moved the sketch down, and placed it on the stone pavement in front of them. Gascoigne lowered his head and looked at it more intensely, before slowly snaking out a claw and lightly tapping it. Viola leaned up and made her way back over to the drawing equipment whilst Gascoigne was seemingly fixated on the sketch, specifically of Addie.  </p><p>Viola smoothed out the paper and cast a gaze to him, she cleared her throat and swallowed, “I don’t wish to take advantage of your position… but would you allow me to use you as a subject?” she asked softly.</p><p>Gascoigne glanced at her and then to the supplies illuminated by the bright glow of the moon and soft lanternlight. He seemed tense for a moment, glancing between the supplies, her and the sketch in front of him.</p><p>He sighed and placed his head on his hands. Giving a seemingly lethargic growl. He got it, and this time, he felt no need to try a dissuade her. He knew he had been in a similar position once; he could recall it in the foggy, distorted memories. An infant, fussing and glancing around curiously with large grey-blue eyes as he held her close. He recalled Viola being near, humming something, complimented by the sounds of scratching, but not quite, it was something else.</p><p>The memories were no more clear than that, but he recalled the feeling of both tiredness and contentment.</p><p>The sound… the scratching sound was here. He pricked his ears and raised his head to Viola, who was transfixed on the paper, where the scratching sounds originated from. He looked at her determined, focused expression. There was something else there. Whatever else it was, he felt like the fog was thinning slowly as the nights went on, but it was especially clearer whenever he was with her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Home only to Beasts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is more focused on family dynamics and looks at how the hell the Young Yharnam Girl/Adelaide is supposed to react and internalise such drastic developments in her life. </p><p>And given that the young girl manages to canonically make it through that corpse, rat and crow infested canal and only die at the very end to the boar… she must have the most amazing luck or just one of hell of a survivalist… so going by that logic, she’s almost invincible. </p><p>Invincible enough to make it to Old Yharnam at least.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Addie crept down what she hoped was the final flight of stairs. As she felt the wood give way to wood beneath her boots, she poked her head around a corner, but could only see the enveloping darkness, though she could smell earth and grass amongst the overwhelming scent of smoke and fires. It made her eyes water from here and her nose feel stuffy. She knew she must be getting close.</p><p>She could see cracks of light shining through what appeared to be a wooden wall… or door. That was her way though, she just needed to be careful whilst crossing the dark area between the stair well. She could smell the scent of beasts, something she had become accustomed to and didn’t mind so much anymore.  </p><p>“<em>I</em> am a brave hunter…” Addie whispered to herself, pulling the throwing knife she had taken from Henryk from its sheath, held by the cords of her dress. She made a weak stabbing motion to the darkness in front of her before inhaling sharply and walking towards the light and pressing both her hands on the wood. She pushed with all her might, and when it refused to move, she pushed again, determination would win over she began to feel a cold, clammy sweat prick her brow and her breathing got heavier.</p><p>But she eventually managed to force open a small crack, letting a wave of ash and dust fly onto her. She coughed, but pushed again, eventually making enough room for her to slip though.</p><p>Addie’s jaw went slack as her eyes adjusted, and the knife hung loose from her hand. She has never seen such a place. Twisted, crumbling buildings dotted the landscape, she could see pyres with beasts strung up, still smoking. She gasped as she saw figures dotting around in the smoke hazed distance. Beasts? It would be beasts? That’s what her dad had said long ago, that Old Yharnam was a home for beasts, guarded by wild hunter. Addie swallowed dryly and clutched her knife harder.</p><p>She had no idea where she was supposed to go from here. But where there was a will there was a way. She looked to the left, there was a still intact bridge… that may be her way… Addie gathered her courage and began to walk with determination towards it.</p><p>But not before blinding flashes of light and a deafening sound met her at the bridge.</p><p>Addie screeched and fell over, clambering back and running at a breakneck speed to seek shelter behind one of the pyres and piles of debris.</p><p>***</p><p>Djura swore under his breath and cursed himself for not using the damn monocular, but that scream said all it needed to. It was a child; a literal child had found their way to Old Yharnam... somehow.  </p><p>Djura backed away from the gatling gun and motioned to Lukas to be on alert. Djura turned back to the entrance, narrowing his eye through the monocular at the child, which he could see moving behind the pyre.</p><p>“You there! Are you illiterate? Leave at once!” He yelled out.</p><p>By the Gods he couldn’t rationalise why a child would be coming down here, let alone how they knew which entrance to take, and survive the journey down. But that didn’t matter, it was a child, it should go back to where it came from.</p><p>The child responded by poking their head around and looking for the source of the voice.</p><p>“Get out of here!” Djura called out, far more aggressively. He stood up on the dilapidated stone banisters and stared the child down from the great distance.  </p><p>But to his shock, and disappointment. The child leapt out and ran back towards the centre of the plaza, standing firm.</p><p>“I know Grandad came here! I heard him say!” She screamed into the distance; at the voice she still hadn’t found the source to.</p><p>It was loud enough it echoed off the buildings and caused some of the beasts to jolt and scamper.</p><p>Djura had just furrowed his brow and kept looking at the strange girl. The beasts were beginning to get anxious as well as curious. He had no desire to save a child from beasts she had just been warned against, but he knew It would end up happening unless she developed some sense about now. But he could see the girl wasn’t moving. He narrowed his gaze, the girl was blonde, in a fairly standard black day dress, clutching a knife… but not just any knife. It may have looked different in her small, shaking hands, but that was a throwing knife. Djura widened his eye. Gods how many years had it been? A throwing knife, useless on the hunt, only used by one hunter he knew… It couldn't have been… Grandfather?</p><p>“Are you talking about Henryk?” he had yelled back down. </p><p>The girl nodded and screamed “Yes!” </p><p>Djura groaned and removed the monocular, rubbing the side of his face. That must have been Gascoigne’s kid then. By the Gods what was her name again? He had heard it only recently. It had been years since he had even left Old Yharnam, and even then, he had seen her once or twice in passing. Though...her showing up now, Henryk must have mentioned what had happened. Or maybe she already knew and was searching for her father. </p><p>“I’m not leaving!” She screamed as she thrust her knife into the air in a seemingly assertive display.</p><p>Djura gritted his teeth. This was by far the most irrational thing he could think to do. But she clearly wasn’t going to move, and the beasts were starting to sniff at the bridge. </p><p>Djura leaned over the edge and waved to Lukas, he motioned to the entrance and then made clutching motions and pointed to the plaza. </p><p>Lukas nodded and broke into a sprint towards the entrance. </p><p>***</p><p>Djura watched as he approached the girl. She was still shaking, but she clutched to Lukas as he led her through the swarms of beasts. As they approached the broken building above the plaza, Lukas jumped down and motioned for her to follow, indicating he would catch her if she slipped from the ladder. The child wrung her hands, and then tried to lower herself the best she could. Lukas caught her, although her dress ripped. </p><p>Djura shook his head and walked back down to the ladder, to deal with this unusual circumstance. </p><p>The girl was pale with fear, perched on the wooden stairs whilst Lukas just watched her from the railing above. Djura leapt off the last rung and walked slowly to her. She looked tall for her age, which must have been eight or nine at the most. He stopped in front of her and tilted his head. </p><p>“So, what do you want?” He asked gruffly. </p><p>The child jolted and looked up to him, shaking slightly. </p><p>“I-I want to see my dad… Grandad told me that they came to Old Yharnam and dad was around here sometimes.” She stammered, wringing her hands, staring intently at the stake driver attached to Djura. </p><p>The old hunter groaned and rolled his eye. He should have assumed as much, though he couldn’t say he had given much thought to anything like that.</p><p>“So you just decided it was a wise idea to come here with no way of defending yourself and clearly no plan? What if a beast had got to you?” he grunted. </p><p>The child nodded her head, “I’m not afraid of beasts or hunters.” she asserted, muttering the last part and reaching to touch the throwing knife.</p><p>Djura groaned again and looked down to the small one. Pure idealism or idiocy, and for some reason, a complete lack of fear. He hated to do it, but if she needed the cold, drenching truth he would give it to her. </p><p>“You know I warned your father and grandfather for years that it would happen, that beasts were people. They knew and didn’t care, they just kept hunting, claiming they were ridding Yharnam of a plague…” Djura muttered, crossing his arms and looking away. He didn’t know why he was feeling so defensive about this. Particularly in front of a young child, especially when he knew it was hypocritical, but he continued,</p><p>“And now look what’s happened… and even though your father succumbed… he’s still hunting above with Henryk,” he muttered, “This world is nothing short of irrational…”</p><p>Djura looked back at the child, she was staring intently at him, grey-blue eyes unblinking and her lips pressed tight.</p><p>“I know beasts are people, but... I still want to see my dad… that’s what I’m here for… please don’t make me go.” she said. </p><p>Lukas sighed and leaned further over the railing. “He ain’t always here and we don’t keep tabs, so just go back and worry about yerself.” </p><p>The child looked back and her brow furrowed. She looked upset, but not as defeated as the hunter would have hoped, though really Djura couldn’t say he really cared. The child would wind up dead if she stayed here without an understanding of the beasts, or how to protect herself. Though clearly she seemed to comprehend the aspect of humanity within the beasts, which was a rarity in itself.</p><p>And there was a very high chance Gascoigne was around… though Djura had sworn to never kill another beast since the burning of Old Yharnam, it became difficult when there were particularly nasty beasts that abused and killed the others. That one Blood Starved Beast in the Church of the Good Chalice had been a violent, dangerous pest for years, but Gascoigne had taken care of her. Djura thought that would be the end of it, that he wouldn’t have to concern himself with any more troubles aside from hunters coming too close to Old Yharnam…</p><p>However, his daughter now showing up was a spanner in the works he hadn’t anticipated. There was an opportunity here, a wise one? No, not at all. Not in the slightest. But a child was a child, and to survive all the way here was an impressive feat.</p><p>“Girl, what’s your name?”</p><p>The child sniffed and looked to him again. “Adelaide… Addie.” </p><p>“Well Adelaide, if I take you to see your dad… <em>if he’s there</em>, will you promise to not come back here? More because its treacherous, but also because I don’t like the idea of any upper Yharnamite deciding this is a holiday destination.”</p><p>Addie narrowed her gaze and looked around at Old Yharnam, taking in the sight of the dilapidated, burnt, and decrepit buildings. The sick and choked plant life that just managed to eke out a living. And the to the feral, emaciated beasts, not dissimilar to the hunters that protected them. </p><p>She nodded lightly. </p><p>Djura sighed and stepped back. “Fine, I’ll take you to where he <em>might</em> be, Lukas watch from the clocktower.”</p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p>“Do I have to wear this?” Addie questioned, nose crinkled at the tattered, stained blanket that Djura offered her that reeked beast blood, sweat and years of grime.</p><p>“You want the beasts to immediately smell you or not?” He posed gruffly.</p><p>Addie sniffed and recoiled, but took the blanket, wrapping it around herself, and followed Djura down the cold iron ladder and stuck close as he led the way through the streets. He was silent the whole time down and only groaned and grabbed her arms when he wanted her to go in a certain direction. But the silence was difficult when Addie had burning questions…</p><p>“So, you’re a hunter that protects beasts Mr…. uh?” Addie asked softly, breaking the silence and clinging to his leg as they moved past a pair of mature scourge beasts.</p><p>Djura coughed slightly and grunted. “Djura’s fine… and, ugh, somewhat.” </p><p>Addie looked distantly for a moment. “I told my mum I want to be a hunter and she said it was a bad idea…”</p><p>“She’s right.”</p><p>“But you’re a hunter, and one that protects beasts… Like I want to, but only the one’s that don’t hurt.”</p><p>Djura turned his head up so she couldn’t see his look of pure disbelief. Protect the beasts? Didn’t this child know nothing but upper Yharnam’s ‘Kill the Beasts’ motto? And on top of that, growing up around the renowned Father ‘If it moves kill it, if it doesn’t, kill it’ Gascoigne. Was she always like this? That was unlikely, but she was young… and she had learned the truth of the beasts, and decided it wasn’t worthless protecting them.</p><p>Djura smirked joylessly at that. The first beast that actually attacked her would result in her developing a fear and hatred. That’s how it always was.</p><p>“Okay, if he’s around anywhere he might be around here.” Djura muttered, prying the girls arms off him and point past the fires and scampering beast patients to a darkened old church. Addie seemed hesitant and moved behind Djura.</p><p>Djura sighed and rolled his eye slightly, “I’ll go first, you follow… okay?”</p><p>Addie squeaked out an acknowledgement as Djura moved forward, sighing and just hoping the beast patients around here didn’t get curious.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>“I feel awful not bringing Addie.”</p><p>“She should be in school, plus it’s far too dangerous, I’m even apprehensive about you coming here, especially with little warning.”</p><p>“I know, I know… I just don’t think she gets to see him enough.”</p><p>Viola sighed and pulled the cloak tighter around herself as she and Henryk slowly walked through Cathedral Ward, trying to attract as little attention as possible from the residents and members of the Church. With any luck they would make it by with very little attention, just a very normal Yharnam pair out for a walk into a barely used church.</p><p>As they walked queityly, Viola gramced to her self as she thought of Addie, whom she dobted had seen much of her own father since he saved her from that boar and she figured out it was him. She just didn’t want her hurt, physically or emotionally, no matter how much the young girl begged to see him. It seemed selfish, but Viola wanted her to safe, that was all. She hadn’t dared to tell Addie that she had spent the hour before dawn tending to the various bite and scratch marks that Gascoigne had managed to gain during the hunt.</p><p> </p><p>She smiled at the memory of how she was forced to push away his head multiple times as he tried to lick at some of the more painful wounds. He whined every time she gently pushed his head away, and yet tried again. Henryk had found it all rather amusing as he sat across from them and laughed at Viola’s attempts to rationalise silently with him.</p><p>Viola recalled that she had moved to the torso, it was hard to clean the deeper wounds with the long grey fur, but she managed to part it enough to survey the damage. It looked like a claw mark of a fully formed scourge beast not unlike himself. She winched with empathy as she dabbed the wound with iodine. She could feel his ribs jutting out with very little muscle or flesh to protect him. It was the issue with beasts, they were all so emaciated despite their vicious nature and insatiable thirst for blood and violence. She focused her attention back on the wound as Gascoigne raised his free hand and began to lightly touch the sides of her face with the long, black claws. She sighed, but maintained her focus on the wound, it was cleaner now and the bleeding had slowed. So she had sat back and closed the bottle of iodine. Gascoigne tilted his head at her, and she mirrored with a slight smile. He growled slightly and sat upright, looking down to Viola through the bandages, he reached down again and gently caressed her face, as lightly as he could. Viola sighed and reached up, holding his hand there for a moment as she felt for a brief moment all was right around them.</p><p> </p><p>Viola drew her thoughts back to the present, now standing at the opened tomb that had the long, dark passageway to Old Yharnam, Viola breathed sharply and clutched the hessian bag with offerings for Djura and his ally in an apology disturbing them without warning. She just hoped they liked vodka, relish, vodka, bread, and more vodka. She had considered bringing them books but wouldn’t even know where to begin with that, hopefully it would be enough from uninvited guests.</p><p>“Ready?” Henryk called, patting her on the shoulder lightly.</p><p>Viola nodded and followed him down.</p><p>***</p><p>Henryk narrowed his eyes as he saw the door open. Djura always kept it closed… perhaps someone had already come through here? He shook his head; it didn’t matter really. He pushed the door and opened it wider, allowing Viola through first, before following and looking directly to the clocktower.</p><p>Henryk raised his hands in a form of surrender and even went as far as to drop one of his hunting knives.</p><p>No shots were fired from the tower.</p><p>Henryk breathed out cautiously and went to one of the still burning pyres, picking up a long piece of wood and alighting it. It would hopefully ward off the beasts. He had brought some pungent blood cocktails just in case as well.</p><p>Viola looked rather relaxed as she observed the sites of Old Yharnam, smiling. “Really it’s rather tranquil.” She stated with a smile, turning to Henryk.</p><p>The old hunter groaned and rolled his eyes, “I suppose… if you’re into beasts, fire and feral men…”</p><p>Viola raised a suggestive eyebrow, which Henryk chose to conveniently ignore.</p><p>***</p><p>Djura had still felt the clutch of near worry when Addie laid eyes on Gascoigne, who was seemingly dead to the world lying in the sickly plant life next to the altar. She cried out excitedly and ran out from behind Djura, right towards the sleeping grey beast.</p><p>Gascoigne yelped piercingly and bolted upright, rearing up on his hind legs with the sudden shock, before realising Addie was running towards him. Which only stressed him more. He could only smell beast blood on her which was good. But her being here wasn’t.</p><p>Addie didn’t even flinch at him being shocked and didn’t stop her sprint. Gascoigne fell back down onto all fours shakily, allowing Addie to try and wrap her arms around his. His fur was entirely on end and he felt his heart beating far faster than it should have been, and yet, despite his immediate concern for the small one being here, in danger, he was actually… content to see her.</p><p>Djura snorted a laugh. He had never seen a beast look as if had suffered a heart attack, with a small child clinging to its arm, already prattling along about her adventure coming here. Gascoigne looked to Djura and the hunter put up his hands in a non-offensive display and lowering himself to a seated position. Djura would keep an eye on her just in case, but more importantly he could observe his behaviour, take mental notes for his findings on beasts and their distinct humanity. In response to the show of careful observance, Gascoigne lowered his haunches and lay back down. Addie still attached.</p><p>Addie continued her story “…and then I jumped down the stairs and pushed the door open, and then Djura shot at me, but it was okay because then he let me come down and now I’m here, and Djura protects the beasts. Just like how I’ll protect the good people and beasts when I’m a hunter…”</p><p>Gascoigne, of course, didn’t quite understand the majority of the words, but he could sense her joy, her positivity. She seemed content, and that was enough for him, even if he would prefer her far away from the dangers of this place.</p><p>“I wish you still lived with us… why don’t you come visit more?” she muttered eventually, lying her head against him.</p><p>Gascoigne felt her mood shift. He inclined his head towards her and growled softly at her. She didn’t respond at first, but eventually raised her head, and wiped her eyes slightly. She smiled and he growled passively at her as she raised her hands and up and began to clamber onto his back, lying on the fur of the mane and shoulders.</p><p>Djura turned his attention to his Stake Driver, he felt it was necessary, but slightly intrusive to be here. He wouldn’t leave here just in case some of the beast patients got curious, but also because ever second validated everything he had done since the burning of Old Yharnam. He had never wavered in his dedication despite the high costs, but it was worth it in having a human, even a child, be able to believe that the beasts weren’t inherently vile.</p><p>“When I become a hunter, you’ll come hunting with me right? Like you do with Grandad?”</p><p>Djura smirked at that, girl still wanted to be a hunter. Sure, whatever she wanted to believe at the moment would be fine.</p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“How’s it going?” Henryk asked nodding at the hunter, descending off the ladder.</p><p>“A’ight, I suppose, not supposed to actually let hunters in… but for all it’s worth there’s only so many subjects Djura and I can discuss, so I’m actually glad to have somewhat familiar faces around… is this Viola?” Lukas inclined towards the woman clad in dark blue behind Henryk.</p><p>“Indeed, it’s lovely to meet you…uh?”</p><p>“Lukas.”</p><p>“Lukas.” Viola stated, stepping forward and bowing her head slightly, which the hunter returned roughly.</p><p>Henryk come to stand beside Viola whilst Lukas yawned and rubbed his eyes before crossing his arms and looking quizzically at the pair,</p><p>“Ya know… I’m actually surprised the girl got here before you, though she was so scared I thought she was lost originally, or whatever she was telling Djura.”</p><p>Viola furrowed her brow. “I beg your pardon?” She asked.</p><p>“The little one… uh… Adelaide? Ya know, the blonde girl that came here looking for Gascoigne, she is your daughter, isn’t she?” Lukas asked, suddenly unsure of himself as he nervously shifted his saw spear.</p><p>“Adelaide… Here?!”</p><p>Viola felt her blood run cold as ice as she gripped her hessian bag tighter and gritted her teeth. Fear? Anger? No it was definitely fear first.  </p><p>Lukas looked genuinely afraid and stepped back slightly.</p><p>“U-uhh, she said her name was Adelaide, that Henryk was her Grandad…Uh, Djura took her to see if Gascoigne was ‘ere.”</p><p>Henryk felt his chest tighten at the thought of Addie being in Old Yharnam, but as he looked to Viola and her nearly spilling rage, he shoved down his own fears and focused on Viola and Addie.</p><p>Henryk cleared his throat and looked to Lukas, “Look if Addie is here, where are they likely to be?”</p><p>Lukas looked to Henryk, his eyes uncertain and darting, “U-uh Djura would have taken her to the Church of the Good Chalice likely…”</p><p>Viola’s expression went from the venomous glare to the complete opposite of calm, friendliness. Though it was a field of flowers growing on a battlefield.</p><p>“Oh! Did he? Lovely!” Viola said in a overly pleasant voice, though one cut with a frigid undertone.</p><p><em>Men truly were useless</em>.</p><p>Lukas actually broke eye contact with the woman.</p><p>Viola’s eyes bore right through the former hunter as she began to walk towards him, resulting in him actually stepping back again.</p><p>Viola widened her smile as she stared at him, unblinking. “So tell me… Lukas... does Djura usually take children on an all-sights included tour of <em>Old Yharnam</em>?” She asked politely.</p><p>“I-I told ‘er to go back.” Lukas stammered out, taking another step back.</p><p>“Effectively I see.” Viola whispered, maintaining her pleasant composure, “So tell me Lukas, how exactly did two, mature hunters end up allowing a young child to waltz right though here?”</p><p>Lukas didn’t respond and just looked down.</p><p>“I see… well then… I’ll be off to collect a <em>child</em> from this <em>beast filled hellscape</em>… would you care to point me in the direction?”</p><p>***</p><p>Djura watched on closely as Adelaide appeared to be presenting her ‘skill’ with a throwing knife that she was wielding like a sword. Skills she had allegedly developed with other hunter’s children during their lunchbreaks from school, or whenever they skipped class entirely. Djura sighed, her form was dreadful, but for a young child, it was just impressive she hadn’t sliced herself. Gascoigne appeared to be amused, tail flicking as his gaze never left the small girl.</p><p>Djura snickered as he saw her attempted to throw the knife in the air and spin around and try to catch it again. Which only ended with her dropping the knife with a clang.</p><p>Addie had heard Djura though, and turned to him with a furrowed brow, “What’s funny?” she asked crossing her arms and looking rather annoyed.</p><p>“Nothing really, I just think your knife skills could use a little work.” Djura responded gruffly with a light wave of his hand.</p><p>Addie unfolded her arms and narrowed her gaze. “Show me how to do it then.” She stated with determination flashing in her grey-blue eyes.</p><p>Djura shook his head. “You’re far too young and anyways, there’s no reason for you to know how to kill with a knife.”</p><p>“I know! You stab with the sharp end!” Addie stated, clearly angry at being treated like the child she was.</p><p>Gascoigne just watched the exchange with amusement.</p><p>“There’s more that goes into it than that Adelaide.”</p><p>“Then teach me!”</p><p>“I’m not arguing with you, I said no and that’s that.”</p><p>“<em>Please</em> teach me…”</p><p>Djura grimaced and rolled his eye. Was the child always this damn stubborn? Did it matter? perhaps she was, though clearly if being a damn brick wall was genetic than that was on Gascoigne. And with how it was going, she may not budge on her position. If he couldn’t beat reason into her though, maybe he could just deter her.</p><p>“How about this Adelaide, if you rescind on, uh, training with your knife and be on your way soon, you can come back in a, ahhh… decade and I’ll teach you then, and how to use other weapons if you’re so keen to be a hunter.”</p><p>Addie’s expression went from dark to a bright, starry interest. Innocent, excitable, and above all, idealistic.</p><p>“Y-You’ll train me to be a hunter?” She asked clasping her hands together on the knife, eyes wide.</p><p>Djura coughed gruffly and averted his gaze. <em>Should have seen that coming</em>. <em>Gods beasts were easier than this</em>…</p><p>Djura cast a glance at Gascoigne, who seemed to be getting irritated, tailing flicking and lowering his haunches, staring directly at Djura. Either he had figured out what they were discussing, or he got that the general idea wasn’t great.</p><p>He had done this to himself.</p><p>Djura coughed and looked away, “sure, but you can’t come back here for at least a decade.” He muttered. He may have just brought his own shovel since he wanted to be dead so badly.</p><p>He mentally scolded himself. He should have just picked up the child when he first saw her and thrown her back to Central Yharnam and barred the doors. But no… he had to feel sorry for her and now he’s committed to a promise he would never keep. Oh, Gods what if she never lets this go…</p><p>Addie leapt up with joy and turned to Gascoigne, who was standing over her pensively. “I’m going to be a hunter!” She yelled excitedly.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh… are you Adelaide?”</p><p> </p><p>Djura winced. Gascoigne growled with a joyful anticipation and Addie stopped, petrified.</p><p>Viola’s presence could be felt before her steely gaze ever cut through Addie. She dropped the knife and shrank against Gascoigne, clinging to his arm as he raised a hand and gently petted her head roughly in support.</p><p>“And Djura’s going to train you then?”</p><p>Djura jolted up and turned to face the newcomers. He hadn’t seen her in years, and he had no recollection of how terrifying she could be, it both concerned and annoyed him… he should have just kicked Adelaide out. </p><p>“Ahh Viola long time no see, listen I was only saying that to-“</p><p>“Not now Djura.” Viola hissed walking past him towards Addie and Gascoigne, discarding the beast blood covered blanket as she stormed over and stood firmly before her daughter. Gascoigne was just happy to see her despite the fact he could sense how stressed she was. He continued to stand close to Addie, but lowered his head to the side of Viola, nudging her shoulder slightly.</p><p>Viola tried to maintain her purpose, but as she briefly allwed her gaze to wander from Addie, she couldn’t help but soften slightly.  She reached up on the tips of her toes to scratch just at the top of the mane, earning a guttural growl of contentment. Viola sighed and pressed the side of her face to his for just a moment before she drew away and snapped back to shooting daggers at Djura before returning a firm stare at Addie.</p><p>“Adelaide…”  Viola began firmly, kneeling down to Addie, who was beginning to sniff to chase back tears, clutching her father’s arm once again. “You know you did something incredibly dangerous, don’t you? And you skipped school, not to mention stole that knife again and tore your dress…” Viola stated sternly, but with a softening gaze as relief she was safe began to overtake the fear.</p><p>Addie pressed further into Gascoigne as her eyes pricked with tears, earning a growl of concern from the beast.</p><p>“I just wanted to see dad…” She whispered, “I’m sorry…” she looked down and clutched his arm even tighter.</p><p>Viola’s gaze softened further as she sighed, before opening her arms. Addie looked up with damp eyes and sniffed before she unclasped her arms and leant into Viola’s embrace. Viola knew how much of a deal it was for Addie, and she believed it to be irrational to be angry with a child that just missed a family member. Though clearly this was also her fault, Gascoigne was so rarely around now, and she had wanted to protect Addie from potentially being hurt. But there was no need clearly.</p><p>Gascoigne leant down again and pressed his muzzle to the side of Viola’s face and licked her gently. Viola smiled softly and leant her forehead on him, running her free hand along his jaw before turning her attention back to Addie, who’s tears were beginning to slow.</p><p>As she focued on Addie, she briefly turned her head to Djura and glared him with such a cold stare that it could have frozen over the ocean.</p><p>“Why do I feel like I’m the one who’s about to be scolded?” Djura muttered, rubbing his eye, already tired of socialisation.</p><p>“Get ready…” Henryk slyly offered, coming to stand beside the aprehensive hunter.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am aware how wordy these are and I'm working on how to be more succinct, so that's my goal going forward. </p><p>And just in case anyone is curious about the absence of the older ‘sister’, ahh… It’s because I really don’t quite believe that she was indeed actually the girl’s sister, the events just don’t quite line up and the dialogue is too vague to tell.<br/>But that’s just my interpretation :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Fading Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Viola reflects on her relationship with Gascoigne and her own understanding of the trails and tribulations involved.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Viola focused her attention to the eyes, or more specially, the gaze. It was what connected the observer to the painting, what convinced them of the reality that the subject matter existed within and told them exactly what they felt. All without being alive, or responsive.</p><p>The gaze.</p><p>Viola tilted her head and stepped back from the canvas, allowing her vision to wander, before closing her eyes and taking a moment. As she reopened them, she felt her vision be drawn directly to the gaze of the subject.</p><p>Perfect.</p><p>Viola smiled as she approached the canvas and added a slight dotting of white to enhance the reflective quality before stepping back again. She sighed and nodded; it was done.</p><p>Viola cast a glance down to all the scraps of paper with sketches, half complete pastel drawings and even just rough outlines that littered the floor. All references of their own sort, and with them, she felt she had made something she could be rather impressed with despite it primarily coming from sketches that she had drawn on that night not too long ago, and memories, the images that lived in her minds-eye.</p><p>When Addie had first described the terror of the aqueducts with the boar that fateful night, she had nearly frozen with both the shock and the realisation. But Viola had also clung strongly to what Addie had described, of being in the near pitch-black dark, about to be devoured by a repulsive, overgrown swine, only to have Gascoigne show up and slaughter the boar to defend her, unlikely realising why he was doing it and what it meant and Addie having no idea what was happening.</p><p> </p><p>But that mental image, of a small girl clutched to his arm, pale with shock and fear as he snarled and roared at the assailant, bloody and aggressive for the purpose of defence… that was something she tried to capture. It wasn’t dissimilar to how things had been before. Gascoigne had the patience of a saint, was gentle and always observational, whilst on the hunt she knew he was nothing short of an aggressive, violent demon. She had seen it over the many years, and yet never felt threatened or even uneasy, because even when she came to see him on the hunt by meeting in Oedon Chapel in their earlier years together, he had always managed to smile and gently talk to her and try to persuade her to get to where it was safe… until those final months, though it was probably even longer than that.</p><p>The memory lapses were far more frequent, the collapse of the pupils and increasingly stronger scent of a beast that clung to him even when not on the hunt. Not to mention not returning home for nights at a time, and when he did, was distant, seemingly in pain and always distracted. Once… once after not seeing him for days, Viola had walked down just before dawn, nearly having a heart attack as she saw him in the drawing room, drenched in blood, just standing there, breathing heavily as the axe hung loosely in his grasp. She had gone to approached him, but as she did she, he snapped. Leaping back and raising his firearm to her, seemingly in a vicious trance. She hadn’t screamed, she hadn’t done anything, she just froze. He drew his axe back in seemingly in shock or fear, readying for the attack… but it never came, as in the moment of fear and him leaping back, he had knocked over the music box… the gentle tune piercing the air.</p><p>Viola had seen the realisation dawn on his face, as he dropped his weapons and sunk to the floor, clutching his head and breathing unsteadily before sharply inhaling, seemingly in a pointless attempt to stop the incoming panic. She had never seen him breakdown before. And there was little she could do except try close the space between them as she too tried to recover from her own shock and encroaching dread.</p><p>The next day had been the only time in their years of knowing one another that she had lost it with him. She had tried to keep herself stable and controlled, as he sat across from her in that very same drawing room silently, all whilst she could no longer contain her worry and stress as she began to yell. He barely responded, just nodded absently, meaning he heard but couldn’t even fathom how to respond, but Viola saw him flinch after she whispered if he had any intentions of watching Addie grow up. Yet he still said nothing, he just stood up and walked over to he, and as he reached down and took her hand, siting next to her and taking her in an embrace did he say something, words she clung to.</p><p>
  <em>I have lots to live for, but I doubt time is with me… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It had led to this. The darkness that had hung over him for months on end, no, years really, as he clung to whatever light and sanity he could… until he couldn’t any longer. Viola stared at the painting.  Against the backdrop of darkness, with the subjects illuminated by a sickly moonlight that filtered in, creating shadows and inky wells of choking darkness that sought to encroach the subjects. But she had made sure to still keep them illuminated, as she saw it. Despite everything, there was still a weak, ill-coloured light.</p><p>Viola stepped even closer and leant down to better observe the brushstrokes and finer details before grasping the easel and moving it to face the wall. It was a small project for her, and she supposed it was a form of coping with the circumstances, so no one else really needed to know.</p><p>She sighed and removed her hair from its clasp and began to gather the sketches from the ground, moving them into a small crate. It really was a shame, that the only time she had managed to actually capture him was now, but I also instilled her with a sense of hope.</p><p>If things never got better, it would matter very little to her or Addie… though, perhaps it was time she put down the paintbrush in favour of a firearm.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry, this is a very short, reflective piece and not super action based one, but I’m working on the next instalment being multichapter and far more plot expansive. <br/>However, with uni it’s hard to manage. But thank you for sticking with me and I promise there will be more soon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Woods are Forbidden for a Reason – Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>These next three parts will be directly related to one another for the most plot relevant part before its back to like, short stories, I think. But either way these one’s are fundamental in setting up context for the rest of any other excerpts I may write. </p><p>But hey, lads take a trip to the Forbidden Woods on a fullmoon because even if only Henryk has a brain cell, he has never used it...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you sure that’s a wise idea? You haven’t left Old Yharnam in years, why would you want to go to the frontier now?”</p><p>Djura just rolled his eye and finished attaching a few more Molotov cocktails to his belt before checking the inner-mechanism of his stake driver.</p><p>“There are few Yharnamites alive today who have been in the Forbidden Woods and survived, it’s guarded and sealed off…”</p><p>“Thank you for your concern Henryk, but you’ve mentioned you know the woods well, so, consider it payback for me allowing you essentially free range of Old Yharnam.”</p><p>“But <em>why</em> though?”</p><p>Djura sighed and turned to face Henryk, “Because there may be information on the scourge there, it’s where Ashen Blood originated from allegedly, so it may be of use for my research, plus I’m sure there’s Vermin there if that interests you.”</p><p><em>Research… sure</em>. Henryk sighed and gazed to the increasingly dark sky. The night of the full moon would be upon them soon, and he hated the idea of being away from Yharnam after dark.</p><p>The old hunter crossed his arms and stared back at Djura, who was still fiddling with his stake driver. He should have never mentioned he had joined The League. It was years ago when he had met the Beast Eater, but his case was compelling enough to convince Henryk to swear an oath. But few places in Yharnam even had Vermin, often he just felt his position within it was purely in name.</p><p>“Fine… but I still don’t like this and what are you anyway? Hunter and Professor of Scourge Beast Anthropology?” Henryk muttered, tightening his grip on his saw cleaver, “Who told you about the Ashen Blood and the woods anyway?” He posed to Djura, narrowing his eyes.</p><p>“Some old Mensis scholar I found near Paarl a while ago, Damien I think his name was, nice enough fellow, though calling him eccentric would be an understatement.” Djura responded flatly, walking towards the ladder to lower Old Yharnam. Before descending, he inclined his head towards Henryk, “You coming? Let’s collect that hunting partner of yours.”</p><p>Henryk sighed and glanced to the dimming sky as he pulled up his mask. Already the grey of the day was being chased away as streaks of blood reds and orange infected the expanse that heralded the start of the hunt.</p><p>Perhaps he should have argued harder against Djura, it was a full moon anyway.</p><p>***</p><p>The woods, declared forbidden by the Church for long lost reasons, had changed only slightly since Henryk had last come here, more overgrown in the vegetation and dilapidated in the houses and villages and as night fell, it only made the place all the more unnerving. Djura was slightly concerned himself, not only because he had left the consistency and familiar Old Yharnam, but also because he also felt the strange, almost unearthly quietness and discomfort of the forest.</p><p>Though the one who seemed unusually on edge was Gascoigne, who padded silently behind them at a fair distance, ears triangulating constantly and fur standing on end. He felt strange about this area, so far it wasn’t too worrying, but there was something about this place. Though he had felt uneasy for the entirety of the night.  He could hear the rustle of crows, the distant crackle of braziers in the wind, the panting of rabid dogs, shuffling footsteps of huntsmen and very faintly, a slightly hissing sound. The ground was foreign, not the hard pavement of Yharnam or the cracked, ash and dust covered stone, but it was soft and damp, with the scent of humidity and rot that seemed to almost assault him.  But what made him most uncomfortable was the moon. It was full, and whenever he looked to it, it was as if something took hold for a moment, as if screaming at him.</p><p>“So, what <em>precisely</em> are we looking for Djura?” Henryk hissed as they slunk along scraggly underbrush that grew around ancient, twisted tree roots.</p><p>“Gonna head into the village and check the caves, see if there are any surviving notes, manuals, transcripts, and then keep an exceptionally sharp eye out for any threats or oddities.” Djura whispered back.</p><p>Henryk grunted softly and turned to look at Gascoigne, who’s eyes were reflecting the light unnervingly and seemed to be unusually on edge.</p><p>Henryk stopped abruptly and once again stood up, as the beast approached he saw the beast shake his head and make slightly pained hisses. Henryk furrowed his brow, and as the beast approached him and stop, glancing down to him, the old hunter tilted his head and sighed,</p><p>“What’s with you tonight?” he muttered.</p><p>Gascoigne didn’t growl or tilt his head as Henryk anticipated, but continued to gaze at Henryk through the bandages, and tentatively opened and closed his mouth, panting slightly. As if he was ruminating on something.</p><p>Henryk felt his curiosity spike, as he lowered himself to the ground and knelt down. Gascoigne just drew his lips back in a snarl with no sound, as if… as if trying to test out his limit or some such thing.</p><p>The old hunter glanced to the full moon before standing and was about to motion to Djura, but he stopped himself, and took a deep breath in, “Are you still fine to follow us?” he posed quietly, enunciating each word as deliberately as possible.</p><p>Gascoigne opened his mouth slightly again before shaking his head slightly, seemingly annoyed. But then he lowered his head closer to Henryk’s height, and jolted it slightly, before inclining towards where they could just make out Djura staring back at them.</p><p>Henryk’s eyes widened considerably as he arched an eyebrow. Well, that… was something. He swore he had responded and not with a hiss or a snarl. That was undeniable, Gods he really understood him, verbally… Henryk exhaled and reached up the ruffle the beasts mane, earning a look of shock but not much else.</p><p>“Viola’s going to be pleased.” He mused, turning around and creeping towards Djura.</p><p>As Henryk turned, leaving the beast in the isolated forest, Gascoigne snarled silently and reared up on his hind legs and pressing his hands firmly on his head, forcing the sharp claws into the scalp to provide some grounding.</p><p>
  <em>Hunt.</em>
</p><p>His thoughts were becoming more jumbled after what Henryk had said.</p><p>‘Viola... Must get to her…no, <em>I</em> must get back to her<em>… Addie</em>.’</p><p>Gascoigne tried to keep his eyes on Henryk and Djura, but he was becoming increasingly frantic around this area and in the labyrinth of his own mind. There was something here. Not a singular idea, but something was in the air that was seemingly clearing his mind. It made his entity body ache with an unnerving and somewhat familiar pain. It only got worse as he has continued deeper into the forest. not to mention to sensation of eyes boring into the back of his head, as if something was watching him or calling to him. He shook his head and silently snarled at the situation.</p><p>He tried to shake the other emotions and thoughts from his mind and force himself to refocus and look for Henryk, whose scent he could still make out ahead, where the forest got more dense. Djura smelt more like a beast than hunter, but the acrid scent of fire clung to him as well. So Gascoigne would never really lose him, it was near impossible.</p><p>“<em>Hunt</em>.”</p><p>Gascoigne froze, heartrate rising as he felt the fur along his spine stand on end. A voice. And a word he entirely comprehended, but not one of his own. A word he appeared in his mind frequently. Gascoigne twitched his ears, trying to determine the location of the voice… but only the increasingly strong breeze that rustled through the trees responded.</p><p>The voice had seemed familiar, and yet distant, as if carried on the cold breeze. Gascoigne shook his head in irritation and also concern as he fell back onto all fours, which suddenly no longer felt comfortable. There was something here… somewhere something was speaking, though those words were foreign again, he just couldn’t quite make them out.</p><p>He felt something pull him… there was something… he could feel it, it was ahead, down to where the hissing and scent of rot and serpents was stronger.  Gascoigne shook his head. His focus should be on the hunters, whom he could still smell up ahead… but… he felt a tug, something was still calling him deep into the forest, though it didn’t seem to be the forest itself, it was something about this whole hunt, this night itself.</p><p>Gascoigne growled slightly glanced back to the distant hunters. They would be fine, and there were more pressing matters anyway. Gascoigne silently leapt down a ledge and broke into a leaping run.</p><p>***</p><p>“Wait a minute… Henryk…”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“Where’s the mutt gone?”</p><p>***</p><p>Gascoigne could still hear those words. He snarled again both in confusion and frustration as he leapt across another ditch with some lone snakes writhing around. He still couldn’t locate it, but he could see there were more of the afflicted huntsmen around now, their movements jolting and unbalanced as the parasites made their nests within their still living bodies. He moved silently through the underbrush, unwilling to engage for both fear of infection, or at the least, being poisoned.</p><p>The beast leapt from the ground onto a damp, near dilapidated fallen tree, sinking his claws in before trying to gain a sense of direction. He felt the cold wetness in the earth that foretold the beginning of a river or estuary. His breaths came out in deep pants as he got increasingly stressed.</p><p>“<em>Ah, to think you’re so close…”</em></p><p>Gascoigne snarled and lowered himself, ready to pound and claw at anything that came into his vison. Anything that could be the source of that noise. But he couldn’t see nor smell anything unusual, which was concerning in itself. He could still hear that voice, so close and yet so distant.</p><p>He held himself still for a moment.</p><p>He briefly caught the scent of beasts, and snakes, but there was something else, something almost like fire, except sharper. That wasn’t natural… not quite… but he had smelt it before… within the fog of memories.</p><p>“<em>Look to the moon…”</em></p><p>Gascoigne roared out loudly and crouched lower, ignoring the now suspicious beasts and creatures. There was nothing he couldn’t smell or at least see. But here he was, panicked and panting as he was, unable to locate the voice, and yet he knew it was external, unlike the dialogue that plagued his hazy memories from time to time. Or was it? He couldn’t tell. Gascoigne snarled again and broke into a sprint as he tried to either run towards or away from the voice. He understood it, yet he didn’t. It made no sense. Gascoigne felt the damp earth give way to the icy cold of the stagnant estuary.</p><p>“<em>Here…</em>”</p><p>Gascoigne yelped and dug his claws into the riverbed and leapt to the side, clinging to large, deceased tree, panting hard as his heartbeat continued to race. The voice… he couldn’t hear it anymore. He heard nothing but a soft drip of water and the distant hissing of the serpents.</p><p>But the feeling. That hadn’t left. He cast his gaze around frantically, unable to see or perceive as much as he would have liked. But what he did see… was the moon.</p><p>Not specifically the moon, but the light of it reflected in the water just ahead of him where the estuary pooled into a stagnant lagoon. Gascoigne unclasped his claws from the tree but did not move to all fours as he knew he was supposed to feel more at ease at. He panted again and took a step forward. It was inefficient and somewhat shaky… but there was something about this. He was transfixed on the reflective moonlight. Gascoigne stepped forward again and sloshed into the centre of the lagoon, staring down, unblinking at the reflection.</p><p>Until, he looked to the sky, staring at the same moon that he had so many hunts. He felt the light flood his being, as any beast did, it was invigorating, but in a way that he hadn’t felt in… what seemed liked eons… why now, why here? It was like the light was somehow breaking a fog.</p><p>But as he stared, he thought to Addie and Viola. He hoped they were safe. They were capable, but on the hunt anything was possible, that’s how it was to be a hunter… wait…</p><p>
  <em>Hunter. </em>
</p><p>Gascoigne felt his heartbeat rise again as he stared at the moon. For a moment… it was if it had pierced right through the dense cloud cover, like the sun did in the early morning after a violent storm.</p><p><em>Oh God. </em>Why was he here? For what reason was he even still alive? Henryk… he never made good on their pact… he swore he would end him if the worse occurred. And yet he was still here..</p><p>Gascoigne felt short of breath as he clutched his arms around himself and leaned over.</p><p>Thoughts, clear thoughts. For what felt like the first time…</p><p>Gascoigne had no time to consider anything as an intense, scalding pain erupted in his mind. The beast yelped out as he clutched his skull. The last thing he remembered, was the scent of… blood and the sickening crack of bones breaking.</p><p>***</p><p>Gascoigne felt nothing but agony. It was throughout his whole being as if he had been thrown into an oil slick and set alight. God of all the times to be feeling this close to death. He groaned as tried to roll over onto his back, but as he even thought of moving, shots of sharp anguish met him. He breathed out slowly, and very gently raised his hand to rub at his temples and face. He winced as he moved his hand, then as he brought it to his face and rubbed his temples before moving to the jaw, he felt like hell, as if he hadn’t slept in months.</p><p>
  <em>Wait… </em>
</p><p>Gascoigne shot up, alighting his whole body with agony and began to breath exceptionally quickly as he raised his other hand to his face, before moving to his shoulders and chest. His breathing got more erratic as his mind flooded with a confusing wash of images, feelings, thoughts. He saw Viola, Addie, Henryk and… Djura? But the feelings were something else, a wash with guilt, pain, loathing coupled with fear, annoyance and confusion.</p><p>Everything at once only exacerbated his situation and he felt close to passing out.</p><p>Gascoigne gnashed his teeth, causing his lips to bleed as he clutched his skull, breathing harshly, with an inhumane growl underpinning every breathe out. He felt something sharp begin to dig into his scalp as he clutched harder.</p><p>“Mornin’… or, night, more realistically…”</p><p>Gascoigne jolted with the shock and moved his head rapidly, retracting his hands and causing another burst of pain as he tried to locate the voice as he drew his lips back into a snarl. His vision was burred though, he could barely make anything out. He instead clenched his teeth together again and closed his eyes tightly again.</p><p>“Good decision… feel to your left if ye want trousers.” The raspy voice offered. It was masculine and unrefined.</p><p>Gascoigne snaked his hand but was cautious. He could smell electricity, or more accurately, the burning scent that accompanied it, and mixed in with that, was the stench of blood and beasts, which put him further on edge. He felt the material and drew it close before slowly opening his eyes again. His vision faded in and out of focus, but he could make out… he was… on a wooden ledge, in a forest… and to his left… a man, dressed in rags and seemingly covered in blood.</p><p>Gascoigne looked down to his hands and only felt his heartbeat begin to thud so loudly he thought it may just stop beating altogether. It was like staring at another’s hands, they were foreign, for some reason… but each finger, was tipped with short, but sharp black claws. He began to shake as he closed his eyes again. His mind was a mess, which didn’t feel unfamiliar for some reason. Every breath out was still underpinned with a slightly growl, not unlike a scourge beast. God this couldn’t be happening…</p><p>“First time huh? It can take a while to get used to being like this again, but it’s okay, just try and relax.”</p><p>Gascoigne shot his eyes open again and looked to the man, sitting very calmly a decent distance away from him. Gascoigne was still too much in pain to try and communicate, but the man seemed to understand.</p><p>“Speaking is difficult as well, but what you should focus more on is trying to be as relaxed as possible, don’t raise yer heartbeat too much… which is near impossible I understand.” The mysterious man smiled, somewhat mockingly…</p><p>Gascoigne let his gaze fade from the man back to his hands. The claws looked slightly shorter, or maybe he as entirely delusional. He kept panting audibly but managed to slow his breathing enough to swallow blood before looking down to the trousers and, with a shaky, uncoordinated hand, grasped them, drawing them closer.</p><p>The man nodded and then turned away, focusing his attention on something behind him whilst Gascoigne struggled slowly to get the trousers on, which was old, shredded, but thankfully functional enough.</p><p>Gascoigne eventually turned around to the man and felt his chest clench again. He tried to yell, but only guttural, inhumane growl came out. The man turned back around, a piece of bloody flesh hanging from his bloodstained hand as he chewed on another piece. Seeing Gascoigne’s both horrified and aggressive expression he sighed,</p><p>“What? You can have some if you like, there’s enough here.”</p><p>Gascoigne went from horror to bitter realisation in a few seconds as he slammed his hand into the platform beside him, feeling his claws make short work of the rotted wood as he clenched it, baring his teeth, snarling slightly</p><p>The man looked amused, and tilted his head, “Don’t have many memories at the moment do ye?”</p><p>Gascoigne only snarled at him again. A child, he could see the body of a child, with this psycho tearing chunks off and eating it like it was tatar. His demeanour earned a seeming eye roll from the haggard man.</p><p>“Listen ‘ere, you’ll transform back if you don’t calm down, I know the bloods everywhere, but at least try to speak and grasp that before you transform back, okay?”</p><p>Gascoigne could barely react, but as the increasingly suspicious man raised the other chunk of bloody flesh to his mouth, he stated at Gascoigne.</p><p>“Just to check in... you are aware you were a true beast not too long ago?”</p><p>Gascoigne bared his teeth at that as he lowered his head. Yes, he was aware, but if he chose not to think about it then maybe he could pretend it wasn’t the case, that it was either a horrific nightmare or something separate from himself. God… everything he had done during his time as a beast, even before, when he was blood drunk and could remember being so. God… no, that wasn’t him… not a beast, not truly.  </p><p>The beggar looking man took a step forward, earning a weak, seemingly human hiss from Gascoigne. He tilted his head again, and sat down a smirk gathering on his mouth,</p><p>“If ye can handle the information… I’ll explain it then, aight? Nice and simple…”</p><p>Gascoigne didn’t respond, he just tried to steady his breathing and wipe the gathering sweat from his brow. The claws seemed even shorter again now.</p><p>“Imagine bein’ a beast is like the bottom of a cliff; humanity is the top. As a hunter… and what I assume was a blood-drunk hunter… You blindfolded yourself, took a stimulant and ran full speed over the edge, crashing and impaling yourself at the bottom… But now, yer’ve managed to clamber back up the precipice with most of the bones in yer body broken somehow, and yer’ve made it to the ledge… but now yer teetering, and it’s easier to slip than you would think.” The man said with a maniacal smirk before adding, “the line is <em>really </em>blurred between man and beast on the Bloodmoon… but the full moon does the same to a much lesser extent.”</p><p>Gascoigne saw his vision fade in and out of focus as his heart rate accelerated even further. He could feel his body flashing with waves of intense heat and chilling cold.</p><p>“Colour me impressed really, there ain’t too many like us.” The suspicious man posed, standing up straight and crossing his arms as he observed Gascoigne.</p><p>That was enough to get Gascoigne to clench his teeth and attempt to turn his head to the man, looking at the mutilated bodies behind him and the slight trail of blood from his mouth. Near gleefully ripping chunks from the piece of meat, that flesh that had been on a child’s body.</p><p>“We’re… nothing… alike.” He growled out through heaving breaths.</p><p>“Suit yerself.” The man said throwing his arms up and smirking.</p><p>Gascoigne went back to ignoring the man and turned his attention to his surroundings, he could feel the damp, rotted wood beneath him with the scent of moss, stagnant water and grass permeating the night air, which was crisp, but not unbearable on his skin. He was alive, that’s what mattered for the moment… but he needed to get to Viola and Addie, or at least find Henryk.  Hell, he’d even settle for Djura.</p><p>“Yer breathing is getting’ quite erratic there mate.” The suspicious man stated, moving towards Gascoigne, “Ye gotta focus on slowing your heartrate or you’ll transform again, and from what I gather, that’s not on yer agenda.”</p><p>Gascoigne hung his head and closed his eyes. <em>God above… how did this happen</em>? That was more of a plea than an actual question. Gascoigne breathed out slowly and focused just on his breathing. Whoever, or whatever this beggar was… he knew what he was talking about. As his breathing slowed, he felt his heartrate thankfully decline as well, which reduced the flashes of heat in his body at least.</p><p>“There ye go mate, see, not that hard…” The beggar offered, approaching again, and kneeling a good distance away, still smirking. “How do ye feel?”</p><p>Gascoigne leaned back against the wooden wall, and glanced at the man, still panting slightly and becoming increasingly fatigued.</p><p>“Were… were you the, ugh... one speaking back then?” Gascoigne breathed out disjointedly.</p><p>The beggar just crossed his arms, “Ay? Speaking when?”</p><p>Gascoigne just shook his head. Clearly he couldn’t be the one, it was nothing like his voice, though the permeating scent of the lightning like burning was still present, so he assumed the suspicious man must have something to do with that. But that could wait…</p><p>“Why…ugh… help me?” Gascoigne stammered out weakly.</p><p>The beggar tilted his head and pondered for a moment. “Curiosity more than anything, and to check if I was right in you being similar to me o’couse.”</p><p>“I’m… no-“</p><p>“Oh cut it out mate! You’re a beast. But I understand if it’s a little confronting.” The beggar laughed, leaning back on his hands.</p><p>Gascoigne felt something within him stir and he barred his teeth at the stranger and hissed ever so slightly. The man just smiled wider.</p><p>“See mate, run a hand along yer teeth and tell me that’s human…”</p><p>Gascoigne didn’t have to, he could feel the unnatural sharpness of them all, even the molars, appropriate for a predator more than anything else. He closed his mouth tightly and turned his attention away from the man… beast? It really wasn’t his priority, he had to get to Viola, or even Henryk, tell them… tell them what? What could he possibly say? That he was human again and everything was fine? Gascoigne closed his eyes and slowly pulled his knees up, laying his head on them, breathing softly.</p><p>The beggar just tilted his head again and sighed. This one was interesting, he was forced to kill the last one that was like him, an Abhorrent Beast, as the madmen in the labyrinths called them. Poor lass couldn’t control herself since she tried to refuse her instincts, leading to her violently snapping and subsequently losing her ability to retain any human intelligence… just another beast after a while. But this one, maybe he could provide some more interesting entertainment…</p><p>“Say mate, ye got a name?”</p><p>The man said nothing.</p><p>“A family?”</p><p>He saw the man breath in sharply and shuddered slightly. <em>Perfect. </em></p><p>“Ahhh how sweet. Well let me give you some advice, because you’ll probably see ‘em again if they’re still alive… and if you do, just keep in mind that human comforts will no longer satisfy you so don’t be around at night because… eventually… you’ll want to shred them for their blood a-”</p><p>Gascoigne snarled abrasively and, in an instant, leapt onto the man, pinning him down with untold amounts of strength. He felt his claws pierce his skin and blood begin to drip down. The smell… it was beast blood… undeniably...and yet it was seemingly intoxicating. But that meant nothing… this man, still smirking still, eventually grinned, revealing a set of similar, albeit broken teeth similar to his own. The man seemed unfazed, entertained even. Gascoigne gripped harder, which caused the man to grimace slightly.</p><p>“You… know… nothing…” Gascoigne panted out, feeling the adrenaline ignite his body. He pretended he didn’t feel the claws get longer and his muscles alight with a similar fire he had felt that first time.</p><p>“Seriously, you’ll transform again if you get any more stressed, I’m not joking,” the man stated calmly.</p><p>Gascoigne panted harder. He knew this <em>man</em> was right. He closed his mouth and swallowed dryly before pushing himself off the man and standing, albeit weakly and oscillating ever so slightly. It felt unnatural, as if however long it had been had forced him to adapt, and now laughed at his struggle.</p><p>The beggar dropped the smile and returned to a relaxed seated position, not even caring for the wounds. He looked to the hunched, stressed one in front of him, he could see the claws rescinding slowly. He had an ungodly amount of control it seemed.</p><p>“Sorry about what I said… but I meant that, you’re better off staying away from society for a while because you’ll need to hunt regardless, so maybe don’t make that yer family then… ay?”</p><p>Gascoigne drew his hands to his face and slowly rubbed his face before casting his unusually long, wild hair back. Need to hunt? That was ludicrous… he was retiring right here and now, he wasn’t going to hunt again. Though not even Gascoigne believed his own thoughts.</p><p>Christ, or whatever Great One he was supposed to believe in… Maybe the man was lying, perhaps he wasn’t… but nothing terrified him more than forgetting Viola or Addie again. There had been too many close calls, and one time coming home after the hunt to mistake Viola for a beast in his blood-hazed mind was one time too many and surely there were other’s he couldn’t recall. He would never forgive himself for that. But he needed to see her again. She needed to know how sorry he was for it all… and maybe… just maybe this suspicious piece of shit could provide something. He looked to the bemused man.</p><p>“How did this happen to you?” He posed roughly.</p><p>The beggar just shrugged his shoulder and looked around before sighing, “Irreverent Izzy… now she was one hell of a hunter… really understood the balance of beasthood and humanity… tried it m’self, not quite the same result…”</p><p>Gascoigne just stared. Someone near willing to undergo something like this… this hell. He narrowed his gaze at the man. Christ this was too much. How was he supposed to go on as was? He felt weak, but within him, he felt those instincts, that craving to seek out violence and bloodshed. But he had to keep moving somehow… if… if he was able to retain his humanity and never succumb ever again, that would be ideal… but if he couldn’t. He needed to see Henryk, and to tell him… that if he ever succumbed again, or came close to… to kill him.</p><p>Gascoigne moved slowly towards the door, each step unccordiated and jarring, and into the darkness within. He needed to get away. He went to unwind the bandages from his neck, but the beggar cleared his throat…</p><p>“There’s still a need for yer bandages mate. Trust me.”</p><p>Gascoigne turned back to the man and narrowed his gaze, “What?”</p><p>“Yer eyes, they’re not collapsed no more sure, but they still ain’t entirely human and never will be again. So just keep that in mind hehe.” The beggar laughed before raising the edge of his own headwrap, which made Gascoigne flinch. His eyes lacked a visible sclera, just an almost luminescent reddish-orange with a deep black pupil.</p><p>Gascoigne tugged at the loose bandages around his neck and adjusted them the way he used to before moving towards the dark, still forest.</p><p>“Oi mate, yer want some for the road?”</p><p>Gascoigne turned back again and saw the beggar gesturing towards the desecrated corpses, suppressing his laughter.</p><p>“Sorry, that was probably not the right time, but maybe next time… you’ll be back, trust me.”</p><p>Gascoigne briefly felt the unbridled rage build up within him for a moment. But he forced his vision away, there were greater things to accomplish.</p><p>“See ye later.” The man called out with a thin friendliness.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I didn't get this edited as much as I would have liked so I will be doing edits along the way.<br/>Thank you to all the recent subscribers and really anyone who reads it.<br/>Advice is always welcome and I apprictate you all.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Woods are Forbidden for a Reason – Part II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Let’s gooooo part 2 ay. </p><p>Gascoigne tries to make it back to Yharnam, to Viola, however, things never go as planned nor expected, particularly during the hunt and with hunters present who make it their mission to hunt down their fellow hunters unsure of where they stand on the increasingly topical issue of beastmen.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“There’s no way we can go searching for him, he’ll be fine Henryk, in fact I reckon he’s just gone back.”</p><p>Henryk leapt onto another dilapidated roof and looked out, squinting his eyes as he tried to locate anything greyish in the dark, silent forest.</p><p>“You don’t get it Djura, it’s the full moon, he<em>, like so</em> <em>many of us,</em> becomes rather unhinged. I know he’ll survive but that’s not the point.”</p><p>“He’s your hunting partner and a beast as well, seriously Henryk you’re like a fretful grandfather, besides... the night is already coming to a close.”</p><p>Djura rolled his eye and turned away, looking to the path back to Cathedral Ward. They would need to get back before dawn unless they wanted to deal with the irritating bureaucracy of anyone in that abominable institution that decided to question them. More an annoyance than a threat, he would much rather deal with those Church servants that looked like corporeal ghosts. But it seemed Henryk was still fixated.</p><p>But the night was ending far sooner than anyone could have expected, it was almost unnatural, it barely felt like the weeks that some night seemed to drag on for. Whatever was in the air tonight was more bizarre than usual.</p><p>Djura sighed and felt for the waterlogged, but hopefully useful documents in his pocket, “Henryk, you can stay, but I’ve got what I need, so I’m heading back…”</p><p>“Fine.” Henryk said, leaping from the building and landing with a pronounced thud on the soft earth, “You’re right he’s probably gone back anyway…”</p><p>***</p><p>Serpents.</p><p>He could hear them in the distance, not just hissing, but the way they moved in disjointed, but dragging motions, as if tangled in something. If the hearing wasn’t enough, he could smell huntsmen, scourge beasts and other, less familiar creatures that appeared to inhabit this forest. That certainly wasn’t natural, there was no way that anyone with normal abilities would be able to sense these things. Gascoigne chose to conveniently ignore that. </p><p>He stopped by a tree and pressed his hand to it, slowly reaching around to see if there were any huntsmen or threats around. He sensed nothing, which was a relief, but more of a relief to him was that the claws seemed to have retracted to a much shorter, seemingly unnoticeable length.</p><p>He still felt weak, as if his body had been thrown under galloping horses and then somehow forced to start walking again, leading to the whole experience being rather arduous. Made even worse by how he didn’t really know where he was supposed to go, let alone how he got here. He had a disjointed image of following two blurry figures, but he remembered they had the scent of hunters. Clearly Henryk and Djura, though he hadn’t seen him in years when he had last come up to Central Yharnam, so that was confusing in of itself… unless he had gone to Old Yharnam. Yes, that seemed correct, he could recall the scent of charred flesh, ash and burning pyres.</p><p>Gascoigne tilted his head slightly, he could hear something in the distance… the clang of metal, no… not quite, a gunshot. Gascoigne breathed out and focused his attention on the direction of the noise. Huntsmen or hunter didn’t matter, he just needed some direction.</p><p>***</p><p>Huntsmen equipped with rifles, rabid hunting dogs and torches. All weapons ready for a beast-hunt, albeit an inefficient one if they genuinely tried to use those weapons for anything larger than a dog or crow. But it was what was behind them that was the true problem, or more specifically trying to reach it. God he wish he had his axe or even the firearm, to be completely defenceless in unknown territory surrounded by creatures and people that wouldn’t think twice of attacking him was less than ideal.</p><p>Gascoigne could smell the slightest tinge of the vile scent he was realising was incense coming from the path that he assumed led back to Yharnam, so all he had to do was slip passed this seemingly guarding force and hopefully it would be straight forward from then on. Gascoigne crouched slightly lower to the ground and moved silently along the underbrush, careful not to possibly alert even the hunting dogs, the fewer possible battles or narrow escapes the better. Especially since he still felt as weak and disorientated as he did.</p><p>He slipped behind a vine and moss-covered stone obelisk, seemingly left over from eons ago. He could hear the raspy breaths of the huntsmen, their shuffling footsteps and pants of their diseased hounds as they moved further into the forest. Everything in him just wanted to confront them, physically manifesting in the drawing back of lips, allowing him to taste the air and the hunt. It was who he was as a hunter, he never backed down from a fight, faced the threats head on. But now that was clouded, seemingly combined with something else that he didn’t want to think about, something that he would denounce.</p><p>He tore his thoughts away from that for the moment and focused just on moving slowly and carefully from behind the obelisk, towards the opening of that cave? Entrance to something? It appeared to be a dilapidated stone structure, not dissimilar to the ones of Yharnam, or more specifically, Cathedral Ward. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be guarded by any other forces of huntsmen or beastmen. Gascoigne could smell the hunter’s getting further away from him, so he relaxed slightly and stood taller as he approached the uphill right towards the entrance.</p><p>But the fixation on both the fear and determination to get back to Yharnam overshadowed the more pressing problems.</p><p>More specifically, the creeping, rabid dog had its sights on him.</p><p>The dog snarled.</p><p>Gascoigne froze as his heart began to pound faster and faster.</p><p>The mutt barked out and reared up slightly, before snarling again and leaping towards Gascoigne.</p><p>Before he could stop something snapped in his mind. Gascoigne launched back with an inhumane speed and clutched the muzzle of the feral mutt, he heard it go from aggressive to panicked as he drew it closer and swiped his now lengthened claws into the soft tissue of its throat. He hissed silently as the mutt continued to thrash and whimper, but he clutched tighter until he felt the hot blood pour onto his hand and the ground, pooling slightly.</p><p>
  <em>Blood. </em>
</p><p>The scent of blood. Even from a mangy, diseased animal had a different scent than anything he could recall from his time as a hunter. Gascoigne exhaled sharply and released the now limp body, allowing it to crash onto the soft earth almost silently. The blood, it ran off his palms and down his fingers, dripping meditatively onto the corpse.</p><p>Gascoigne gritted his teeth further until he heard them grind. As he breathed heavily, shuddering ever so slightly, he felt a heat alight throughout his muscles.</p><p>Oh God. He breathed faster, taking in shallower, more frantic breaths. He needed to get out of here. God… he had just slaughtered a dog, and whilst that didn’t bother him necessarily, it was the manner in which that was achieved it that made him sick.</p><p>Gascoigne tore his gaze away and focused back on the dilapidated stone structure, it led to Yharnam… it had to, he could see stairs and the burning scent of incense which both repulsed him and drew him in. He strained to focus his vision, but it didn’t matter, he broke into a sprint, panting heavily as his body clearly still didn’t appreciate being forced to run or even walk on two legs, practically when he could feel the vicious tug of hell that seemed to want to coax him into forgetting his humanity again.</p><p>Gascoigne snarled as he pressed his hand to the wall, leaving bloody marks as he slowly began to ascent. He could feel the flashes of heat still come and fade throughout his body, desperately attempting to ignore it until he heard a soft, grinding sound intermittently.  </p><p>He had to get back…</p><p>***</p><p>Viola yawned and slowly began to open her eyes to the still dark that blanketed Yharnam. Dawn would still be a few hours off if the illogical time of the nights and hunts was in order, but even so, there was little chance of her getting back to sleep, not after the restless night she had desperately attempted to find some rest in. She had been plagued by an active mind, resulting in flashes of nightmares that were quickly fading. She had hoped that after last night Henryk would have taken what she has asserted more seriously and decided not to hunt, but alas, he said Djura needed him apparently, so that was that.</p><p>Viola sighed and reached for her robe, pulling it around herself and she moved downstairs to the kitchen. Tea was in order in an attempt to calm her nerves, and a fire would be perfect to chase the chill away from her bones whilst the dark morning seemed to be moving at an usual pace.  </p><p>What Viola never anticipated, was to walk past the drawing room, to see a small figure huddled in a blanket, staring at some her paintings. Viola jumped slightly at the unanticipated shock, but steadied herself and clutched the door frame, and breathed out silently. And smiled slightly. Addie was seated near the bolted and chained window that looked to the platform outside, her favourite spot on the night of the hunt. She didn’t appear to hear Viola and continued to flick through some of the sketches, back to the doorway.</p><p>Viola smiled slyly and slowly couched lower, taking a careful step forward on the floorboards, weight distributed in order to silence her footsteps she crept forward.</p><p>Addie turned another page over and sighed, still facing the opposing mantle.</p><p>Viola grinned as she extended her arms, and with one quick motion. Grabbed each side of Addie’s shoulders, “I’ve got you little hunter!” She cried.</p><p>Addie shrieked and leapt at least four feet in the air. Viola’s grin gave way to a strong laugh as Addie whipped around and with eyes the size of saucers,</p><p>“That’s not funny!” She yelled tossing the notebook away as her heart continues to pound.</p><p>Viola only continued to laugh as she crashed into the sofa beside Addie and began to ruffle her flaxen hair. Addie crossed her arms and scowled looking away.</p><p>Viola choked out the final laugh before laying a hand on her daughter’s shoulders and slowly rubbing her back in circular motions.</p><p>“You should be in bed dear, what’s got you up at this hour?” Viola offered, feeling that Addie has sufficiently calmed down.</p><p>Addie pouted a moment longer before sighing and turning around, throwing herself into her mothers’ side and resting her head on her chest.</p><p>“I just feel strange.”</p><p>Viola nodded lightly before smirking and casting a sly smile, “You know Addie, they say the Great Ones come and snatch you away if you’re too strange.”</p><p>“No they do not!” Addie asserted, brow furrowing again as she crossed her arms, still pressed into her mother’s side.</p><p>Viola sighed softly as a stinging ring echoed around outside and the shrieks were only growing louder.</p><p>The hunt was short tonight. She could feel it in her bones somehow, the hunt was out there even if the time seemed to extend and contort in a whim, and she had spent too long around beasts and hunters alike to ignore it any longer.</p><p>Addie’s eyelids began to droop as the exhaustion settled in as she stifled a yawn.</p><p>Viola snapped from her thoughts as she smiled down at Addie, pulling her into a tighter hug before gently kissing the top of her head, “For tonight at least Addie, you should try and get some rest, that way you can be up if grandad comes around.” She offered.</p><p>Addie smiled and nodded her head, before stifling a yawn. Viola slowly raised up and felt Addie follow, clutching to her robe sleeve. “Come on then.” Viola whispered with a smile as she led her up the stairs and into her room, gently allowing Addie to jump into her bed as she drew up the blankets over her shoulders and kissing her softly on the forehead.</p><p>As she drew away, Addie never closed her eyes, and stared at her mother as she moved to the door frame.</p><p>“Sleep well my little hunter.” She whispered.</p><p>Viola closed Addie’s door gently before placing a hand on the frame.</p><p>She inhaled sharply and moved back up to her room, opening the wardrobe and pulling a woollen dress and appropriate cloak and boots before quickly and quietly making her way to the basement, which was no longer blanketed in dust now that she was no longer miserable when she looked upon the place.</p><p>She had spent months unwilling to look upon the few weapons, bullets and vials of blood. But she could no longer stand idly by. She would never be a hunter, she had no desire, but by the Gods she was going to protect what she must.</p><p>She reached the top of one of the shelves, far out of Addie’s range, and withdrew the modified hunter’s pistol. She felt for the bullets and slipped about a dozen in the deep pocket of her cloak before inserting one into the chamber of the pistol, and with a firm flick of the wrist, clacked it shut.</p><p>Viola drew his lips into a tight line and slowly began to unbolt the door, but she looked to the mantle… just in case… more for her own comfort, Viola grabbed the music box before slipping out into the desolate streets.</p><p>***</p><p>“Well well well, a hunter is it? Or a beast?”</p><p>Gascoigne couldn’t will himself to look up, he could smell her from here, and he feared if he did, he would attack her as the scent of blood mixed win with various herbs drew him in and made him flinch. He just continued to kneel, shuddering on the cold, uneven pavement of one of the many graveyards of Cathedral Ward. Though the vile, pungent incense was ungodly strong here, it wasn’t enough to deter him long enough, even though it made him increasingly uncomfortable.</p><p>He had made it through, but barely. He was lucky enough in his fading state to make it past the Giants and most of the Servants, though one was now collapsed, expressionless on the ground. Killed by his hand.</p><p>But the blood. It was worse now. His vision faded in and out of clarity as he desperately attempted to control his heartrate and maintain his thoughts. But it was getting harder, as if something was pounding in his head viciously, clawing its way out.</p><p>“Ei…leen…” he rasped out with difficulty before gritting his increasingly sharp teeth again, his mouth feeling more like a fox trap by the second.</p><p>The Hunter of Hunters observed him from a distance, pale crow mask obscuring her face, though, she could tell he could sense her suspicion from here. He was seemingly still sane, unlike the other times she had observed him. On the night he succumbed, the subsequent interactions with Henryk and Viola. She had to admit, once Henryk had told her what had happened, he nearly had to pull her back from going and taking care of him. He claimed that Gascoigne wasn’t a threat. She had nearly declared him insane there and then and was almost tempted to put him down as well, but he begged her to listen, and then to watch and observe them hunt.</p><p>She was secretly glad she had. Gascoigne seemed at least not to be a threat to his family nor Henryk, so for the moment that was enough for her. But it was also that she hated the idea of having to slaughter a friend, and then face the wrath of Henryk and the misery of his family. Gods… what a nightmare.</p><p>“I-I need… ugh, to get to… Vi-ola.” He hissed quietly.</p><p>Eileen glared and rolled her eyes through her mask at that, “By the Gods Gascoigne, you’re falling apart, there’s no way you can see her or Adelaide as you are now.”</p><p>Eileen moved closer and stood over the hunter, he was still breathing painfully, clutching the hand covered in blood, with the claws were even longer now, and the musculature had changed, becoming far more emaciated and sinewy. He seemed hyper-focused on the ground, likely in an attempt to prevent himself from losing sight of what mattered at this moment, to focus on just the present.</p><p>The Hunter of Hunters just shook her head. “Yer lucky Henryk and Viola vouched for you, otherwise I would have taken you out a long time ago...”</p><p>“You… you… agh… may still… need to.” Gascoigne rasped out between strained breaths, shuddering. His voice seemed more guttural somehow, and definitely not being helped by his current crisis.</p><p>Eileen clicked her tongue and crossed her arms, “Trust me Gascoigne, I just may, it would be my unfortunate pleasure; but that’s up to you… for now, I think you need to focus on getting away from the blood.”</p><p>Gascoigne only growled inhumanely for a second, seemingly in greater pain.</p><p>Eileen also suspected, if her suspicions were indeed correct, that the scent of incense was making it worse still. It was near toxic for beasts, and to even be here around it would be making staying rational even more difficult when the beast just wanted to slink away and hunt elsewhere. Eileen exhaled sharply and reached into her belt bag,</p><p>She didn’t know how he would react if she touched him, and she didn’t want to risk forcing him to try and move himself if it resulted in him becoming volatile and… not human. The Hunter opted for iodine, just a small bottle which may be enough to at least it get the blood off his hand. Which appeared to be the fixation. As Gascoigne snarled painfully in a less than human way, she lowered herself slowly down to him and was about to reach out when something caught her eye.</p><p>The old crow jolted her head up and looked to the door to the Chapel. She could hear footsteps.</p><p>Oh, Gods why now. Eileen stood up slowly and reached for her blades.</p><p>“Wha…”</p><p>The sound of footsteps stopped, and Eileen gritted her teeth and narrowed her gaze coming face to face with her standing in the archway of Oedon Chapel.</p><p>Viola stood there, eyes the size of saucers and pistol clutched in her hand as her mouth gaped like a fish for a moment.</p><p>Eileen leapt back from Gascoigne and broke right into a sprint and met Viola, grabbing her and latching her hands firmly around the artist’s upper arms and forcing her further into the chapel as the firearm clattered to the ground. Viola seemed not to care in the slightest, and kept her eyes transfixed on the shuddering and bloody figure crouched next to the body of a Church Servant. She couldn’t’ think straight, it was as if taken by an entirely foreign force that caused a wash of emotions she couldn’t quite deal with.</p><p>“Listen Viola! Listen well, I can’t let you get any closer.” Eileen hissed at Viola, shaking her arms to try and catch her attention.</p><p>When Viola didn’t respond she shook her again, more harshly. “Viola! Don’t you dare even think about it.”</p><p>Viola, whose face was going increasingly pale just stared on, “He’s here…” she whispered distantly and still in a state of disbelief.</p><p>Eileen bit her lip. Viola made no attempt to fight against Eileen’s force, but the old crow knew as soon as she let her go, she would race to him without a second thought or care for her own wellbeing. Especially under these circumstances. Gods why now!</p><p>“He’s here… Eileen…” Viola whispered again, blinking as her blank face began to get more life into it.</p><p>The Hunter pushed Viola back slightly into the Chapel, earning a slight cry of shock from Viola. Eileen moved her hands to clutch Viola’s wrists,</p><p>“Listen, it’s a volatile situation! I don’t know what he will do so–“</p><p>“Let me go to him!” Viola asserted suddenly, glaring at Eileen with both fear, confusion and intent, “I know you just want to protect me, but I’ll be alright!” She said, voice rising into a yell as she looked Eileen dead in the eye through the mask.</p><p>“You will not stop me!” She enunciated carefully.</p><p> </p><p>Gascoigne heard voices that faded between comprehensible and completely incoherent. Eileen had gone, the blood was stronger now, and he felt the heat become consistent throughout his body. <em>God… why now</em>? He had to get to Viola. Before he lost it again… maybe forever. Then he heard yelling as he doubled over in pain again, a less human hand now attempting to clutch the stones, creating grooves where he drew his claws back.</p><p>Then… he heard it.</p><p>It was like blade slicing though his brain so harshly that he released a sharpy cry before drawing his hand to his head as he failed to comprehend.</p><p>But it didn’t stop. And then… that scent… linseed and something softly herbal… chamomile.</p><p>A tune… one Viola played for Addie, when she was only an infant to calm her…</p><p>Gascoigne could barely see straight, but he felt something soft brush across his forehead and down his cheek. The scent was stronger, the sound more piercing… he heard something soft, gentle. It was faint, barely audible. But he focused all his attention on that. He breathed deeper, releasing his grip on his head, and felt the warm runs of blood from where the claws had pierced the skin. But he also felt another hand snake up and brush away some of the blood.</p><p>He took another deep breath. Feeling the heat within his body slowly begin to lessen.</p><p>He heard her voice again as it became increasingly clear…</p><p>“…may I…?”</p><p>He never heard the first part, but he just leaned forward more, as her hands snaked up and to the bandages, gently unwinding them until they hung loosely around his neck. He could smell the linseed and chamomile get stronger as he felt both her hands snake down to cup his grizzled face gently, allowing him to adjust his vision.</p><p>Red bleary eyes and her visage completely drained of colour aside from the ruddy smattering across her cheeks from the cold and stress. She was grinning from ear to ear whilst looking completely relived, exhausted and anxious all at once.</p><p>Viola saw his eyes latch onto her own, the pupil dilating as he stopped snarling slowly.  </p><p>He had no strength left though, and his vision began to blur again, but as his head fell forward, it slowly hit the bone of her shoulder. The last thing he recalled was the feeling of her arms around his neck and the final note of the music box.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Viola breathed out slowly as she felt Gascoigne stiffen under her touch as the final note of the music box play as the deathly silence took over.</p><p>She withdrew her arms and looked down for only a moment to the blood, but as she looked back to her hunter, he violently, doubled over to the ground and drew his arms around himself, leaving trails on blood where his claws lacerated his flesh. He barely seemed conscious, as if responding on some internal instinct.</p><p>Viola felt the panic set in before she could rationalise what was happening, Gascoigne lashed out with an inhumane speed and she felt a strong force pushed her back along the cold stones of the graveyard, snagging and tearing at her skin.</p><p>She cried out sharply as a blinding flash of light and an inhumane shriek pierced the atmosphere.</p><p>Viola shook her head and tried to stand despite her vertigo and tried to focus her vision ahead.</p><p>Blood.</p><p>Far more than there had been before.</p><p>And here he had just been, a large, grey beast, with a feather-cloaked hunter standing above him, close and clearly aggressive as he blades found their way to the base of his throat.</p><p>He had been back, he was in her arms but seconds ago. Viola sunk back to her knees just stared blankly ahead, feeling very little suddenly. </p><p> </p><p>Gascoigne was nothing short of dazed, all the fur on end and he was breathing rapidly whilst blood leaked from his mouth, but silently. His eyes glanced around in seeming disorientation, but as he cast his gaze on the figure above him, he barred his fangs and snarled aggressively, resulting in the figure, without any hesitation placing their blades at his throat. Emotionless, controlled, and above all else, ready for the kill.</p><p>He heard the assailant mutter something but couldn’t make it out. He tensed and prepared himself for the oncoming fight.</p><p>“Eileen don’t!”</p><p>Gascoigne tore his gaze away from the assailant and looked beyond them, to Viola. She was upset, he could sense that from where he was, but couldn’t figure out as to why, there were slightly more pressing matters. There was blood everywhere, the hunt was on, why was this happening? And the figure… the hunter… ready to kill him. He knew her, someone he felt he shouldn’t have been in this situation with.</p><p>Gascoigne looked back to the aggressor and with a swift motion, leapt back, causing the hunter to do the same, but she recovered and lowered her stance and readied her blades again. Gascoigne responded by snarling far more viciously and bristling his fur, flexing his claws and ready to strike in response to anything she may do. Viola would be protected, and if it meant slaughtering a hunter, so be it, even if there was something he couldn’t quite place about her. It was the hunt anyway, and hunters could be prey as much as any other beast.</p><p>“No!”</p><p>Both Gascoigne and Eileen were taken aback as Viola raced forward and put herself between the hunter and hunted, staring intently at Eileen and breathing rapidly as she raised her arms.</p><p>“Out of the way.” Eileen stated coolly.</p><p>“Eileen. Do. Not. Do. This.”</p><p>Gascoigne sensed Viola’s distress, her fear and yet, she was… defensive…. She was… protecting him…</p><p>Despite himself, every instinct in his being and the desire to shred the hunter in front of him. He closed his jaw and slowly approached Viola, resulting in the hunter tightening the grip on her blades and also taking a careful step closer.</p><p>He slowly leant down to Viola, and nudged her shoulder lightly. But she didn’t respond, she just stared ahead at the hunter. He growled softly and nudged her again with slightly more force.</p><p>Viola blinked rapidly and turned to look to him, tears beginning to slowly trail down her face as she turned around entirely and reached out to hold him just to the side of his head, and pressed in. He could feel her light, warm tears, but the more urgent matter was the still aggressive hunter ahead as he glared them down.</p><p>“Please Eileen…”</p><p>The Hunter of Hunter’s sighed and lowered her blades slightly.</p><p>“What good will letting it live do?” She posed to Viola flatly.</p><p>Gascoigne couldn’t make sense of it all. What had happened before? There were images, the scent of incense, a burning pain, a gently hand against him. But nothing concrete, and nothing that aligned with Viola clearly being distraught. Had something happened to her? Had he done something?</p><p>“No good, I don’t care about good.” Viola muttered, her tears drying already as</p><p>Eileen stared directly at them. If Viola was anything it was stubborn, and by the Great One’s it would be hard enough to get across that she didn’t actually want to kill him, but it was just the thing to do. She was a hunter of hunters, and it’s what needed to be done.</p><p>Eileen clicked her tongue and slowly moved the blades to her side, standing up straight and crossing her arms.</p><p>“There are no happy endings in Yharnam Viola, I told you that years ago and it still holds. This, your daughter, your marriage. It was never going to end well… but you knew that…”</p><p>Gascoigne still stared aggressively at the hunter, despite her rescinding on her aggressive posturing, and speaking in a tone that seemed cold.</p><p>“This isn’t a happy ending, there will never be one, do you think I didn’t know that?” Viola hissed, rescinding her grasp on Gascoigne and moving towards the Hunter.</p><p>Eileen slowly raised herself up and lowered her blades. It was a favour to Viola, that was all. Nothing else.</p><p>So, she let him go, it was the end of the hunt, and he knew she was safe enough here, for wherever she could be he could not. And this hunter was more defensive than aggressive, so perhaps the hunt could take elsewhere in the waning time.</p><p>But as Gascoigne walked slowly away from her, despite the protests from somewhere in his mind. Turning back once more to look into her melancholy eyes that were brimmed with tears. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had done something to cause this, something there, just beyond the fog.</p><p>He looked to the body of a pale figure, and then, to the small, object that lay a fair distance away, dull and seemingly unimportant. But that right there… it was like a blade that pierced his skull whenever that object made the soft sounds… a red object.</p><p>
  <em>How have you failed her this much?</em>
</p><p>The fog dissipated briefly to mist as he felt a voice ring through his head.</p><p>He couldn’t claim he comprehended it all, but it was enough. He would return to her truly, once he had figured out a way to.</p><p>***</p><p>The beast slowly lifted another piece of flesh to his mouth and tugged at it until it shredded off and the tendons snapped.</p><p>It was tough, even for a child. Must have lived a hard life the poor bastard. Even as his parents yelled and screamed and begged for him to be spared.</p><p>Tragic. </p><p>He stared off the balcony to the village below and sniffed the air, noticing nothing unusual, just the routine scent of decay, blood and gunpowder. It would have once satisfied him, but now, after tonight, there was something more in the air.</p><p>To hunt, to finally be able to hunt something that was a true challenge.</p><p>The anticipation was something else. He hadn’t felt this way since his first few months after succumbing to the truth, the unmasked face of mankind.</p><p>The beggar grinned.</p><p>Wating for him to return would be one thing but getting to watch him slowly lose it as he fought his very nature was a true temptation.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Many thanks to everyone who continues to read and to those who subscribed recently. It means a lot :)</p><p>I've been kinda toying with ideas for a small 'origin' story which I think would detail *that* night I've kind of referenced a few times that is partially based off the canon.<br/>Idk would anyone be interested? <br/>Not a guilting question, I write these fanfics because I enjoy it, but posting things still makes me nervous haha.</p>
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